Back to the land of the mountains, minus the goats.

Coming back to Virginia, I can't help but reflect on the amount of movement that's still involved in my life. To Indiana and back is something like 9 hours, and that's a trip 'm willingly making every other month or so. You can drive across a small European country in less than that.

Having reliable car helps.

Very little art was once again done while there, mostly due to the amount of work needing to be done on the property.

At this point, I would like to take off a month and see how much could be done on the Tales of Daon. Not the snippets of poems and background outlines, but the actual 'novel', which is on the top 3 of the current "things to do in life" listing.

(Other things include:
Finishing Mr. Jellyroll poem (Don't ask).
Hybridizing my own african violet/iris/rose/etc,.
Learning to work leather
Learning to lampwork
Learning to do taxidermy -properly- (I can skin a bird as well as anyone, but stuffing the pelt afterwards and making it look good is another piece of the puzzle)
Collecting a good reference library for things natural and artistic
Work in a florist or a nursery for the sake of having that experience (Something that would have to wait until 'm not at the farm at odd times of the year) )


Meanwhile, here's some farm pictures.

The main thing I did in the past week was clear the fence line.
Here's the freed-up barbed wire and posts.



The huge pile of cleared brush, mostly multiflora rose brambles, fallen branches, and blackberry canes.


The freed-up fenceline. Should've taken a "before" picture.


Firewood, gleaned from the trunk that dad and I spent an entire Saturday hacking up and hauling. The fallen tree's been in the pasture for something like 2 years; it was either an oak or a walnut.


The greenhouse shelves that 've put together last week.


The complimentary sunset.

Coming to Virginia.

To travel the mountains is to acquire a peculiar gliding sensation in your toes. It is an incessant, unforgiving routine up and down slopes, through hills which have been cut through, ones in which you can still see the vertical shafts down which they've stuffed the explosives.

It is a lesson in patience, as my Honda isn't what it used to be, and takes the slopes only with much straining and low-key grumbling. It is a car of many trips, an all-terrain vehicle that's taken the gravelly 45-degree slope back in Indiana without as much as an awkward pause. I suppose I am attached to it, in that absent-minded way that relies on the best qualities of an object without going over the top with bumper stickers and customized steering wheel covers.

Never did understand those steering wheel covers, by the way. They remind me too much of fluffy toilet-seat covers.

It's been a while since I've written anything of note. For a jack of most trades and master of none whatsoever, this is not unusual. For a person who's just gotten two degrees and now is not altogether sure what she's supposed to be striving towards now.. Well.

Elrin says that one should not live in the past and dread the future, that one should live in the present. He also says that college these days is but an extended childhood, a sentiment with which I agree. As for the former trail of his thoughts, it's hard to wrap a mind around simply existing.

What does one do? Where does one go?

--

Last night, while watching the last Futurama movie, I've gotten a text message. It was a long, drawn-out admission of love from a number that was unfamiliar. After a couple of messages back and forth, it turned out that the person's gotten a wrong number. Still, it was very exciting, just for a little while. Sort of.. mysterious.

The picture above is one of the currently-blooming NOID african violets. Kind of funny. While I was spending a month in Indiana and the plant was outside, it didn't as much as squeak.. yet as soon as it was brought indoors, it burst into bloom as though it had nothing better to do.

Maybe it didn't.

Maybe I'll call it "Reggie".