Random thoughts from an older perspective, writing, politics, spirituality, climate change, movies,knitting, writing, books, refinishing furniture, getting off the grid, writing, plotting and planning an organic garden, writing. I MUST STAY DRUNK ON WRITING SO REALITY DOES NOT DESTROY ME.
Monday, September 26, 2016
Life on the Farm Day 2
The view from my bedroom window. Nothing moving unlike the ocean at my door back home.
The woods. Watching the hunting dog being trained. The cat supervising my work. 800 words today. A milestone from someone who has struggled and struggled. The applefalls being fed to the ducks and the chickens.
Something cracked open inside me and it let the light in. Yeah, I still cry for Ansa but just once today. Smokey the cat was a comfort. As was bouncy Belle the hunting dog. Out geese hunting they were at the crack of dawn (4 a.m. yikes). Ne'er a goose. The missus, who looks about 24, is a capital shot. Bagged her first moose last year. They live off the land as much as they can. She teaches French to replenish the coffers and hosts Airbnb, lucky me.
The colours are in the trees now, should be blinding me in a couple of days, the outraged red shoving the ambers and oranges and greens out of the way and glaring at us all.
I updated my book page if you want a look-see. And I'm working on three short stories in case you ask.
My world needs to become smaller. I've lost interest in this circus called politics. And it's a circus everywhere. The more "respectable" of the newsfeeds today trumpeted Prince George had snubbed our prime minister and Herr Drumpf should win the debate tonight which I won't watch or track. Can anyone define this particular "win"? How can we take it all seriously when the bigger, planet challenging issues are nowhere to be found and the gunslingers in the states are still gunning down children and aboriginal women in Canada are being slaughtered just about daily? I'm backing away and concentrating on where my hands are, thanks.
As Schumacher had it: Small is Beautiful.
Posted by Wisewebwoman at 9:32 PM
Labels: away from it all, farmlife, Newfoundland, writing
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"I'm backing away and concentrating on where my hands are, thanks." Me, too. That sounds like a sane solution. Living in the Deep South is a nightmare of Trump signs. I'm sick of the whole business.ReplyDelete
It must be appalling for you Diane, and nerve wracking if this monster manages to get in. We have to shape our own worlds now.Delete
I get it about watching where my hands are, but I am so weary and wary from events of the last few years that some days all I want to do is hide...ReplyDelete
Me too E, or slide off the Edge into a cave, far far distant from the noise.Delete
The circus called politics is even more farcical in the UK. The Labour Party tearing itself to bits, the Tories privatising everything in sight. It's painful to watch.ReplyDelete
That's an impressive pile of logs. Someone's well-prepared for the winter.
We'd be hard pressed to top Herr Drumpf, Nick, anywhere. I didn't listen to the so-called Debate, harrumph, but snippets convinced me it was a comedy show. The man looked one snort too many and Hillary looked leaderish and sane but she won't appeal to the deep South or to anyone with a double digit IQ.Delete
Caught up again, www.ReplyDelete
I so wish I could find the time to look in daily; everything and anything you say could have been said by me, even though our lives are very different. (Actually, not THAT different).
I am so sorry for your loss, Ansa was a wonderful companion. I saw a man, a fellow gardener, who told me that we should love our creatures but always be aware that they would eventually leave us; not to grieve too much or take it personally; their lifespan is so much shorter than ours. Enjoy them while they offer their friendship and love but let them go when their time has come.
Hope your health problems are solvable. Old age brings problems, but if you can drive for 600km twice in a short while, you are doing well.
Don’t give up on politics. While there’s breath in my body I shall rave and rant, even if I can’t do anything physical anymore. What I find almost unbearable is to see the suffering in Syria and having to accept the situation. There’s no help for it, only when all parties are totally exhausted will there be an end.
In spite of all the misery around I wish you a wonderful holiday.
Thank you Friko. I think us kindred spirits find each other in the blog world. I'm catching up a lot in this trip, on blogs, on writing, on photography, on knitting. Finding my feet on this shaky old planet. And I agree on Syria. I've written many of the local pols here to get something going for Syrian farmers. We are desperate for farmers and have millions of acres of crown land to be given.ReplyDelete
I wish I could end the Ansa grief but wishing has never made emotions leave us. It takes as long as it takes. I do believe she's my last dog. For many reasons.
I know you're going through your own grief at the moment and my thoughts are with you. Change, so inevitable. So sad.
You are lucky to be away from politics. We have been having a seesaw kind of on and off political drama all across the nation as well as some Indo/Pakistan skirmishes. I wish that I could live with a hunting dog and an indifferent cat out in the boondocks.ReplyDelete