Friday, March 13, 2015

Long Haul, in bits.

well, so a laptop returns to my lands, the dirt is peeking fretfully from beneath the snowpiles, and 'maybe' seems to have more import, more possibility.  today is friday, the boys have a half day so we, me and the littlest, are home in pajamas til they get off the bus in a few hours.  caillou, the strange bald pebble of a boy who whines incessantly, is on and i am here, typing. get that? typing, as in blog posting.  as always, with no editing and self-checking, so for that, i apologize.
i had thought my writing course would inspire me to post but... nah.  i think the snow and cold wore me thin, took away some of the illusions i had about my own self-reliance and ability to 'hole up'.  we've got two cars but only one is a strong snow-driving vehicle so most of the days hubsJ took the good and i was literally home-bound.  too cold to play outside for very long, we did a lot of television and watched every harry potter movie that there is, except the last book's worth, as we don't have it and i betcha a lot of money its more for me than for them.  darkness man.
we had a basketball tournament, which eldest's team won, so that was good.  i do so love basketball.
uhm. lots of snow.
middle boy has quit boyscouts and started swimming. can't tell you how happy i am. and truth? i just stopped taking him to boyscouts, it was my choice entirely and not his.  man, i hated that experience. like hateful hate hate.
repetition does not always communicate anything.
woodstoves are my new favorite sensual pleasure. really, the connection you feel to the world when you are tending a fire is deep and so very human. warmth, warmth warmth. warmthwarmth.
my nose is running over because i keep going outside in my pajamas, testing the air, breaking ice from the ground, freeing the waters to flow away.  we've had leaks, we have ceiling patterns of water making itself cozy as it passes through.  i'm fine with that.  the birds have been fed, i went to a garden talk on how to plant for birds, bees and butterflies. i bought a house for mason bees, which is waiting a path to the compost heap and then will be UP. we have a cardinal couple that i watch for obsessively.  the trashbag that i threw out the door a month ago has been uncovered, animal-attacked and cleaned up.  snow wants to go, it does. it has its own feelings about the sun.
 because our chickens are free-rangers, we've let them out most days unless it was single digits or too deep to walk their little dinoclaws through.  the only sheltered place has been the front porch and so they've been here all winter, shitting all over the porch and generally leaving the place looking and smelling like a zoo which is questionably caring for its denizens.  craaphole.
i hope i'm back in the saddle again, but can't say for sure.  i'm going to put on another caillou episode and swing my way through blog reading, so be writing something for me, yah?  go on.


MotherOfGooses said...

It is a long haul and we have to do it in bits. I love picturing the chickens congregating under your porch. Caillou will see us through. Keep writing.

Kate Hall said...

thanks so much M.o.g. I wish the chickens were under, but they are ON, and gross with the shits, i tell you, gross. i hope to keep writing but have no feeling one way or the other about whether i actually will... wildly in love with mary pratt's jelly jars, so thank you for that!