Monday, June 29, 2009

another couple days

Friday. Got home late, again, decided I was too exhausted to drive up North. Too tired to think of anything else to do, I laid down on the couch in a state of blankness. Too wired to rest, I popped up and started cleaning things up a bit. Mom called to see what our plans were and we talked for a while about the state of the gardens and other things, an unexpected and pleasant conversation which changed my mind considerably. Instead of looking for reasons to stay here this weekend I began looking forward to leaving in the morning. Stayed up late, drunkenly sent an old friend a message on Facebook (and let me just say here, that I find FB unnerving, repulsing and strangely hostile to life. Upon my first descent into that madness I realized that I was entering a sort of graveyard, a kind of hell populated by the constant clicking of keyboards and millions upon millions of constructed personas, carefully or stupidly crafted out of painfully revealing snapshots and insignificant thoughts expressed in unconsidered words. Much like the rest of the world, I suppose, except that here no one hugs each other, or smells each other, or looks each other in the eye. Instead we silently become friends, and watch each other's motions (or not) through a magnificently devised and aptly named Screen, never hearing each other's voices or seeing each other's hands. It's fine enough for idle chatter and connecting with pals, if you're into that sort of thing--and I'll admit there were a couple faces I was happy to see, if only for the moment that I remembered being in their presence--but it leaves, well, everything to be desired, in my opinion. Why don't we all just barf on ourselves? The best minds of our generation...are not spewing tripe on Facebook. Sorry, friends. Okay...maybe I'm just jealous, really, that I can't have fun at your big fat party. But it's not because I wasn't invited.) It was a stupid note, of course. To bed, late.

Saturday. Up early. Could have sworn it rained and thundered in the morning but I guess that was a different day. Nice hearty breakfast and yerba mate for the road. Arrived around noon, to a sky still cloaked in clouds after an overnight rain. Mom and Dad showed us the new compost pile they'd mixed up with the chicken shit they'd gotten from a friend down the road, and another pile of composted shit in the pole barn which they'd picked up from a family acquaintance further north, for the meager price of $20 a pickup load (Dad gave them $30). A few sprinkles as we set to work weeding all the beds with stirrup hoe, scritcher, claw, by hand. The sun burned holes in moving clouds. Toward the end of the afternoon Cosmic M, Mom and I wandered out into the fields and woods, through daisies thick as thieves (and their artless accomplices), toward that patch of Werewolf Root near the oak on the south fence. It was lovely as ever, that place, and still after my heart, but I was not open to it or the frolicking Monarchs or much else, so after wading in and superficially admiring the neighboring thistles and ferns, we pressed on through the low spot where I met my first agrimony last summer, out into a sunny field full of mullein, on through milkweed and raspberries to the gravel pit, under black spruce and maples to the Big Hill, and back again through fields gleaming with daisies and yarrow, fleabane, sprinkled with bedstraw; glowing with cinquefoil, buttercups, goatsbeard; on fire with hawkweed and sorrel; blushed with sweet red clover; quieted by one purple in hue, which we could not name; swimming in waves of green, all. Spent the evening on more weeding and sharing a quiet and tasty dinner prepared by Mom while Dad was away for hours, playing the role of esteemed public official and only male representative on panel of judges for the "Little Miss" pageant of a town up the road. Managed to drag my weary old ass outside for the stars and fireflies, who had in one week gone from magical to desperate, in the cold Summer wind. Quite worth the trouble.

Mmmm, eggie weggies...

Sunday. Up early. C Monkey finished up the cinnamon rolls he'd started the night before and the two of us got to work in the cool of the morning. The birdsongs were exceptional. Among the singers, seen, were a pair of brown thrashers, orioles, goldfinches, rose-breasted grosbeaks, bluebirds, red-winged blackbirds, woodpeckers various sorts, pigeons, doves, robins, hummingbirds, swallows, bluejays, at least. It was a
windy morning and it stayed that way, blowing all day without a moment's rest, pushing over corn and sunflowers and anything else big enough to stand in its way. In response to Mom's suggestion (which I'd previously poo-poohed, thinking it too impractical or just un-doable), I decided to pull the pile of tangled grape vines out of the old chicken-coop foundation and wind them around the arbor, to create a way up for the honesuckle, clematis, firecracker vine and morning glories in need of a lift. Turned out quite nice and just right, a good morning meditation. After a late breakfast we spent the rest of the day winding, weeding, spreading compost, seeding cover crops, undersowing, chipping, mulching, watering. Can't speak for the others but I put in a good eight hours and was glad for it, if a bit tired. Home by just after dark.

For a weekend which I had thought might be better spent here at home or in a canoe, we really got a lot done, and things are in good shape because of it. Hopefully next weekend we'll be able to swim, play bocce ball, shoot pool, kick back, lie down...

Couple of pagans, gardening and drinking beer.


conniewonnie13 said...

this post is a breath of fresh air... i can almost imagine myself there, listening to the world. you write in lyrical beautiful prose that conveys an inner voice filled with great peace.

(i do not refer to the FB bits, which were so apt i would love to put them on my 'wall.')

hope the weekend is free for all:)

fremenine said...

Why thank you, and what a happy surprise to find your words here, in response to what I'd regarded as just another boring old journal entry... I have been working to relearn language and release my voice, in part through these pages, and I'm grateful to have listeners from time to time.

It's funny, there's a way in which I totally love all this electronic interfacing, but then I encounter a possum in my backyard and think, hey. Life is for real. And I really want to go swimming... :)

conniewonnie13 said...