Mick Jagger is a god, worthy of praise and adoration. You can't always get what you want but if you try, sometimes, you get what you need. Tell me that is not pure genius. What I have learned in my sorry life is that I am at my best when I live simply and seek those things that are essential and real. Simple stuff, like true love and actual commitment. Jez, how elusive are those things?
The Old Goat and I shared some father-son time today. I drove him to see his dying sister. It was heartbreaking. My aunt gasping for breath, with no clue of she was and who these people were who kept calling her name and asking her inane questions. My Dad cried. The whole scene broke my heart. The Old Goat actually had feelings for somebody other than himself. As we drive to see her, we talked about his childhood and about his father. He was a cruel man. Hard on his kids, eager to take any advantage open to him, not above exploiting any opening. Maybe The Old Goat was an improvement. If so, it had to be the civilizing affect of the Blessed Rebecca.
Spent an enjoyable evening with my friends Jim and Judy. They invited me to join them for dinner while they entertained guest, John and Nicky. What a treat. Great food and wonderful conversation although I think I might have imposed upon the general flow of exchange. Still, it was a much appreciated evening.
If all goes well, the tractor will be back in operation by the end of the week. Assuming we don't have heavy rains, I will spend the end of the week plowing in anticipation of planting onions and potatoes. It is also the time to turn over the parish garden. I want to get the lettuces, cabbage, brussel sprouts and broccoli in as soon as the weather permits.
I spent a couple of days battling privet. Again, assuming the tractor is back in operation this week, I will be able to chip up the slain enemy. I use the chips for middles of my rows in the garden. Mostly, I chip up the privet because I do not like it. I think the bush is a bully and deserves the crushing defeat dealt it at the hands of my chipper. I have lost no sleep over its demise.
Mostly, I am happy with my life. Of course, you don't always get what you want. But, I keep trying and, sure enough, I pretty much get what I need. Mick is a god. And the real God is in heaven, graciously looking over my sorry ass, generally protecting me from myself. Life continues to chug along in the wilds of Alabama.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Saturday, January 28, 2012
The Daily Hundred
The last couple of days have been good ones. I feel as if I have earned my hundred bucks each day for the work I have done around the place. One day I installed a frost-free faucet near the chicken houses. The next I staged a frontal attack on the privet in the old pig pen. After a day of struggle, I emerged victorious. It has been a while since I felt that I earned my daily hundred. Maybe it is just the season. Piddling around the greenhouse does not strike me as work. Spending a day in front of the computer is not work. Driving to or sitting in the meeting, neither is work. Busting your butt, working up a sweat in the middle of winter, getting dirty, needing a shower and a cold beer, that is work. It is on those days of real work that I feel as if I have earned my hundred.
Speaking of the greenhouse, I have blooms on my heirloom tomato plants. I intentionally and with forethought selected two of the two dozen plants to survive. The two are now three feet tall and filled with blooms. In a couple of weeks, I might actually have tomatoes. In the meantime, I am sprouting a couple of herbs, basil and lavender. I placed my order for seeds. My onions will arrive next Thursday; two hundred sweets and two hundred reds. At the same time, I will put in my potatoes.
My parish, Barney’s Church and Bar, has agreed to let me plant a parish garden. My thought is that we will put in a salad crop. That will allow us to plant early and harvest well before the heat of summer. Then, we will come back in the fall and put in a crop of greens. Barney’s has a beans and rice ministry so the garden will complement it well.
The Old Goat (TOG) and I headed out last evening for our usual Friday burger night. As we approached the fine eating establishment, TOG lost his balance and landed on his ass in the parking lot. He sustained no injury, as far as I could tell. He was a little embarrassed but nothing permanent. He does seem to have issues with his balance. We subscribed to that service that answers anytime he presses a button on his alarm bracelet. Couple of weeks ago when we arrived home after another spectacular night of burgers we found the yard at TOG’s house filled with an ambulance, a fire truck, and a sheriff’s deputy, all their blue and red lights flashing. Apparently, TOG had accidently hit the Help button. I guess it is good to know that the system works.
WitchWoman joined me in Little Rock for an agriculture meeting last week. We discovered the Capital Hotel. Better, we discovered the chef at the Capital Hotel. What food! A brunch that featured Southern favorites in a new and fresh ways, bar food featuring the best quail I have ever tasted, and a breakfast that rivaled anything that the Blessed Rebecca ever cooked. Overall, Little Rock is working hard for respect. Having Bill Clinton as a key selling point hurts but the place has some redeeming features. It may come as a surprise to many but I paid to tour the Clinton Library and Whore House. It was a three-story advertisement for Bubba and Hilary. I had to fight nausea during the entire experience. And, to think that I paid to see this shit! In sharp contrast, I enjoyed touring Heifer International. WitchWoman and I walked all over the place and enjoyed the time in Little Rock.
Speaking of the greenhouse, I have blooms on my heirloom tomato plants. I intentionally and with forethought selected two of the two dozen plants to survive. The two are now three feet tall and filled with blooms. In a couple of weeks, I might actually have tomatoes. In the meantime, I am sprouting a couple of herbs, basil and lavender. I placed my order for seeds. My onions will arrive next Thursday; two hundred sweets and two hundred reds. At the same time, I will put in my potatoes.
My parish, Barney’s Church and Bar, has agreed to let me plant a parish garden. My thought is that we will put in a salad crop. That will allow us to plant early and harvest well before the heat of summer. Then, we will come back in the fall and put in a crop of greens. Barney’s has a beans and rice ministry so the garden will complement it well.
The Old Goat (TOG) and I headed out last evening for our usual Friday burger night. As we approached the fine eating establishment, TOG lost his balance and landed on his ass in the parking lot. He sustained no injury, as far as I could tell. He was a little embarrassed but nothing permanent. He does seem to have issues with his balance. We subscribed to that service that answers anytime he presses a button on his alarm bracelet. Couple of weeks ago when we arrived home after another spectacular night of burgers we found the yard at TOG’s house filled with an ambulance, a fire truck, and a sheriff’s deputy, all their blue and red lights flashing. Apparently, TOG had accidently hit the Help button. I guess it is good to know that the system works.
WitchWoman joined me in Little Rock for an agriculture meeting last week. We discovered the Capital Hotel. Better, we discovered the chef at the Capital Hotel. What food! A brunch that featured Southern favorites in a new and fresh ways, bar food featuring the best quail I have ever tasted, and a breakfast that rivaled anything that the Blessed Rebecca ever cooked. Overall, Little Rock is working hard for respect. Having Bill Clinton as a key selling point hurts but the place has some redeeming features. It may come as a surprise to many but I paid to tour the Clinton Library and Whore House. It was a three-story advertisement for Bubba and Hilary. I had to fight nausea during the entire experience. And, to think that I paid to see this shit! In sharp contrast, I enjoyed touring Heifer International. WitchWoman and I walked all over the place and enjoyed the time in Little Rock.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
A New Year
A new year. Yeah, right. Another opportunity for a measure disaster or a timed opportunity for the world to fuck you over. Aw, that is just the negative Tom talking. I am better than that.
The Christmas holiday, the so-called Holy Days, were wildly varied. At one moment I was the subject of blistering condemnation, the next I was the source of all pleasure and satisfaction. Hard to find a median in that confusion. The bottom line is that I dislike the holiday. It encommpasses too many disappointments, too many exhilerations. The essense of the good life is to live the golden median. Christmas always violates that rule.
Spent some time with my daughter over the holiday. She is involved with a guy whom I distrust. She complains that I do not like him. Well, seems to me that he has to earn a little confidence. Same for her. Tried to talk to her about joining me on the farm but she would have nothing to do with it. I think that is a big mistake on her part.
WitchWoman was a joy to be around. It was hard to leave her to drive back to the farm. But, I did. I drove from Kansas City to Welch, stopping only for fuel.
When I arrived home, I discovered that my heater was not working. And, because the temperatures were plunging, my water lines from the well froze. I spent a very cold night. This morning, I spent hours thawing out the pipes. I gave them blow jobs. (That is, I used a blow dryer to heat up the pipes.) When they were thawed, I turned my attention to the heater. I fixed it but did not trust my effots. So, I called an expert (a high school drop-out) who verified that I had fixed the situation but still charged me $50. Tonight, I am warm and have water. It is a considerable advantage over last night.
Sassyfrass, my cat, is pregnant. She is real pregnant. Due at any time. I let her out to wander a bit this afternoon. It is almost 7 pm now, dark and cold, but she has yet to return. I am a natural worrier. I hope she did not drop the kittens in the woods. If she did, they will never survive the cold temperatures.
I worked on the herb garden again today. I will continue tomorrow. I have to get the tractor repaired before I plow the area for the millet, milo, corn and sunflowers. I still have time but would like to get it done in order to put down some nutrients before planting in early spring.
My regret is that I am not more excited about a new year. It is just routine. And, that, in itself, is a sad commentary. New starts ought to generate some genuine enthusiasm. Instead, it is just another January with some routine chores and tasks.
I know that I really dislike the cold.
The Christmas holiday, the so-called Holy Days, were wildly varied. At one moment I was the subject of blistering condemnation, the next I was the source of all pleasure and satisfaction. Hard to find a median in that confusion. The bottom line is that I dislike the holiday. It encommpasses too many disappointments, too many exhilerations. The essense of the good life is to live the golden median. Christmas always violates that rule.
Spent some time with my daughter over the holiday. She is involved with a guy whom I distrust. She complains that I do not like him. Well, seems to me that he has to earn a little confidence. Same for her. Tried to talk to her about joining me on the farm but she would have nothing to do with it. I think that is a big mistake on her part.
WitchWoman was a joy to be around. It was hard to leave her to drive back to the farm. But, I did. I drove from Kansas City to Welch, stopping only for fuel.
When I arrived home, I discovered that my heater was not working. And, because the temperatures were plunging, my water lines from the well froze. I spent a very cold night. This morning, I spent hours thawing out the pipes. I gave them blow jobs. (That is, I used a blow dryer to heat up the pipes.) When they were thawed, I turned my attention to the heater. I fixed it but did not trust my effots. So, I called an expert (a high school drop-out) who verified that I had fixed the situation but still charged me $50. Tonight, I am warm and have water. It is a considerable advantage over last night.
Sassyfrass, my cat, is pregnant. She is real pregnant. Due at any time. I let her out to wander a bit this afternoon. It is almost 7 pm now, dark and cold, but she has yet to return. I am a natural worrier. I hope she did not drop the kittens in the woods. If she did, they will never survive the cold temperatures.
I worked on the herb garden again today. I will continue tomorrow. I have to get the tractor repaired before I plow the area for the millet, milo, corn and sunflowers. I still have time but would like to get it done in order to put down some nutrients before planting in early spring.
My regret is that I am not more excited about a new year. It is just routine. And, that, in itself, is a sad commentary. New starts ought to generate some genuine enthusiasm. Instead, it is just another January with some routine chores and tasks.
I know that I really dislike the cold.
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