Name:
Location: Midwest, United States

Hello. I'm Johnny Cash.

Saturday, May 16, 2009

And...back down the hill.

I laid out the blankets and pillow and attempted to take a nap on the grass with Mark. He, however, thought we were at gymnastics class. It's hard to sleep when a 3-year old is tumbling over your head.

So I sat up on my elbow and started watching the sheep. And thinking. Thinking that I'd probably be getting a lot more done with my day if this grass was MY grass.

This property has so much potential. My mother-in-law has talked about passing this property down. As I've said before in this post, if they do that, and they live a normal life span, we'll be 60 when it's our turn to live here. No thanks.

I look around at the acres that are in pasture and the many wasted acres that aren't. If this was my place, I'd still keep a nice yard, but I'd be slapping fences up left and right, subdividing pastures for rotation, and bringing in a truckload of animals. I had a dream the other night about pigs. I want pigs.

I'd quit my job if this was my land. Quit my job and bring in the animals and dig a huge garden and really make a go of it. My Best Friend Ted could come and live in the house we're in now. Sigh.

But it's not. And there's no settling in because I can't do what I want with it! And why put in more garden beds, or plant asparagus, or build chicken tractors or coldframes or anything else if 1. I have to ask to do it and 2. we won't live here for too much longer (God, I hope).

But we are ill-equipped to move out to our land. No one is going to give us a loan to install a well or a pond. Our lawnmower is hardly sufficient for the mowing we would have to do--even populated pastures need mowed. And no one is going to give us a loan right now anyway. Our entire purpose for being right now should be paying down our debt. And until that's paid off, I'm in land limbo. Itching to get outside and get started, unable to. I am thankful for the animals I have, but you must understand that I am not 'allowed' to manage them--meaning manage the grass--as it really should be. It's a limited allowance. I can have the animals, but if taking care of them--meaning taking care of the grass--means doing anything remotely unattractive--meaning: useful and necessary--or interferes with the fantasy that Little Cousin is going to ride like the wind on her asshole of a horse, I can't. It's almost worse than not having them. I SO wish we had just put an apartment in the shop or bought some little house in town.

On most days I manage quite well. But when I really stop and think about it, this living situation is miserable and I hate it. I have to stop and apologize here for being a spoiled brat. I don't have a lot of patience with this process. When is the shop going to make real--meaning bring it home--money? I'm ready to rent a place in the country, move the animals to the land, and bring them water on a truck.

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