Sigh. If you blog, you can probably relate to what I am going through. I want to write about something, but I keep putting it off because I once I start that post, it is going to require hours and hours of soul-searching, then typing, then editing, then re-writing the whole g*ddam thing, and maybe deep down I know most people don’t care too much about the subject matter. Don’t get me wrong, as an activist for the Democratic Party, Immigration reform, and GLBT rights, I am quite used to ridicule and out right meanness. I’m too old to let that shit bother me. I usually enjoy the back and forth, and I usually don’t waste time with trolls, or with people that are merely trying to drive traffic to their sites. This is different. This subject isn’t one that I know alot about. I’m reading as fast as time allows, and talking to people who know more than I do, but as I have told some friends and family members recently, once I got here, there was no turning back.
So there it is. Yes, if I was a better writer, or at least a more disciplined and organized writer, I could pull all of these random thoughts together, and then the reader could see how this now permeates my entire life. By now I am sure most of you that got this far are asking me “why the hell don’t you just spit it out?” So, Ok, here goes. It’s about oil. It’s about energy, its about turning a small farm into a self-sustaining autonomous collective, wherein each member acts as a sort of Executive Officer of the week, but all decisions of that officer must be ratified by a 2/3 …(sorry, I tend to riff on Python when I get lost in thought.) Seriously, it is all about turning 50 and wanting to use this land to it’s full potential. This farm used to sustain many families. Not so long ago, there were cows, chickens, crops, and the people that lived on this farm traded with local families and shared the experiences, good and bad.
I feel like a huge antennae, taking in all these seemingly random signals and still only spitting out the same TV show. It’s not that I dreamed of doing this. Oh, sure, I like to plant a row or two, I enjoy cutting up trees for firewood, mending the occasional fence line, you know, gentleman farmer stuff. At the end of the day, though, I run out to Kroger, buy some meat and vegetables, fire up my grill, and then relax in my air conditioned home, watching HBO. It ain’t a bad gig.
But, something is clearly up. I intend to write about it over the next few days, weeks, and months. Perhaps I’ll just start by asking if any of you are asking yourself some similar questions. I am starting on my chicken coop this week. I spent the last two weeks gathering material on the cheap, and now all I lack is, um, experience. I got to spend some time with Aunt B’s brother today, and he is easy to hang with, and he cleaned my clock at cribbage. He is coming out this week to help me build this coop, and in the Fall, I’ll be re-fencing for more livestock, maybe he’ll get involved in that too!
So, I wanted to break the inertia, throw caution to the wind and just share whats up here at the Chronicles. You know, it was easier when I could just get outraged at this administration and vent. Now, I have to actually admit I am learning this as I go.
Thanks for stopping by.