My Inner Bitch

It seems like “things” are going on around me, and I am not in control of anything.
I think that my judgment is a little off too. You know, like when you are asked a question that has multiple answers.? Normally you would go, yea on the first point, perhaps on the second point, and an absolute no on the last point.
What I am doing now is just bundling all the answers into one flaccid, “Oh OK”, “that’s fine”.
In the end, I have shot myself in the foot.
My goal is to re-take my Bitchness.
Not a New Years Resolution or anything, just a damn good idea.

Garden Deity, and a night in the big city.

The big city was buzzing last night.
Lots of people on the streets, and in the cafes.

But it is good to wake up in the quiet.
The air was washed clean at daybreak.
The sky is as crisp as my brain.

I've been out in the vegetable garden this morning.
Girl farmers should not wear perfume.
Especially during bee season.

I have found another deity to help in the garden. Bless.

We’ve had Jesus, er, Judas, and now we have Mohammed, with a little JeanClaude oui-oui

for added confusion.
Mohammad brought 2 beautiful cypress trees back to life.
The trees looked like “Sideshow Bob”.
Branches broke, so Mohammed came to the hill, not quite a mountain, and healed 2 trees.

About a week ago Mohammed was here trimming. We had accumulated a BIG pile of clippings, branches, jardin debris. Mo' suggests making a bon fire. Pete had done it in the past, and it was fine. Get the place cleared up.
He catches it on fire, and it infernos for 15 minutes and then settles into a steady burn.
A few hours pass and Mo' leaves the mountain. The fire still rages (ok , that’s an exaggeration).
I’m supposed to go out for dinner. I call and cancel, afraid to leave the fire burning in the dark, unattended, wind coming up.
So, some hours pass, and it is still burning. I go out and spread the ashes around, another hour passes.
Still burning....bright.
I have on my jammies, a chenille robe (fire haZard), ready for bed.
Fire still burning...OK, time for water.
Turn on the tap and the water starts coming, try to turn it off and the tap just turns and turns, and keeps turning, water coming out of the tap at a thousand miles an hour. I’m soaked....

What to do? Chicken Little, the sky is falling.
The plumber talks me through finding the h2o cut-off valve, which is in a spider infested hole in the ground. OK, water off.
Fire still burning and wind coming up.....all elements present and accounted for.
70's band joke?

I finally got to bed, only to wake in the middle of the night smelling smoke.....
It was my hair.
The fire continued to burn for 2 days....

Who better to help in the garden?

Jesus can’t come till the 30th.
I really need him now.
It’s not surprising that he is in demand. He is good at what he does.
When I first met him I made a hasty judgment based on appearance. (note to self….don’t do that any more). I could feel that he was gentle, but the brown smile and the butt of a hand rolled cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth screamed uncouth. The long hair stringing out of his ponytail, let’s just say there was a lot to misjudge. And that ole chestnut about French men smelling rather....er gamey, well, it was certainly true in this instance.
It started just after Jesus parted the field with a weedeater.

Snakes snakes snakes sankes smakessnakessnakes
Snakes
Nakess
Kessnak
They were everywhere and I had the creeps all the time.
I was getting over it. I was actually going barefoot, occasionally, and only on the tiles close to the house, while clapping my hands and whistling loudly, pounding my feet when I stepped.
When we first came to live in this house, Alf was here. He had been living in one room, being a guy. The grass was high and the underbrush thick. So the field mice, moles, grass snakes built an enormous housing project, Perfect when you think of it. Stone and brick structures, with lots of nooks and crannys for the not-quite “bottomfeeders” of the farmchain. Then the CitySlickers arrive (us) and start encroaching on their projects.
I have an update on Jesus. He over-charged me. So he is more like Judas.

Conflicting Emotions

Springtime seems to be the time for poor unsuspecting animals to be taken to the abattoir.
I see the big trucks on the road. They are especially made to hold as many animals as uncomfortably as possible.
When I am behind one of the trucks, I swear, I can smell the fear. It's not the smell of urine or crap. It is fear.
I'm a meat eater. But I cannot help be shed a tear when I think of how horrible it would be to be in their hooves.
Maybe the next blog should be about self-control...or the lack of it.

SImple Life

Breath of fresh air.
Spring.
Full of promise.
Suddenly I have energy.
The dark days of winter appear to be over.
This is the time of year that makes everything possible.
What is it?
Are we like saplings? Our sap is rising?
All I want to do is be outside. I want to dig in my garden. I want to clean out the garage.
I want to paint a wall. Drill a round hole in solid concrete. I want my sap to rise and take all the winter cobwebs away. I want a lot. But you know, it's Spring.
ALL IS POSSIBLE>>

Who named it Blog? Really...What a crap name for something so revolutionary.

Each day I try to start afresh. Try is the key word. But the good word, what if we never tried. Never tried to change our behavior, the world, our own tiny microcosm. A change to make "things" better.
THis year my New Year's Resolution was to do an act of kindness each day. The Act of Kindness is really easy. Hold a door open for someone, feed the birds, don't give the asshole that pulled out in front of you the finger. Easy.