|
7 & 1/2 Acres |
2003-05-22 - 8:00 a.m. Sometimes I just feel like I don't know what the hell I am doing. What the hell is my purpose. We saw The Matrix Reloaded last night and damn, it was good. I'm as scattered as scrambled eggs this morning. I finally got up before 8. I hate getting up late. 8 is even late in my book. I feel like I can't get going when I rise late in the day, though I won't deny that sometimes sleep feels so good. We're making scant progress on the milkhouse. As usual there's umpteen things that need to be done before we can even get to it--we've got to clear spaces to put the stuff that is in the milkhouse. And, Lord that place is full. I've got to get rolling here though before my folks get back otherwise progress will never be made. My dad will want to hang on to every three inch scrap piece of wood--right now it's going to go into a bonfire to be lit tonight or tomorrow. One of the things that I loved about The Matrix Reloaded was how they talked about this thing--purpose. How Morpheous, and Trinity, and Neo all had this purpose--that their very existance was this purpose. It was the same for the Keymaker. I loved that dude. How confident he was in what was meant to be, was to be, was already. It's quite a spiritual flick. I oughta force myself to flush out some thoughts here but, boy, I'm in a bit of a funk. Have been ever since we got to this state. Something about MD makes me grumpy. My body feels sore and stiff and my brain is a scattered to no end. And I think the only way I'm going to get it back is through work--the actual labor of work. But, even that, which is something I can usually just go do, I'm unable to do. I just can't focus none and Chancey and Halley are the two most whineist dogs I've ever met. I love them a bunch but why they just hang out and whine is beyond me. But this is MD for me--even their whining, which should get on my nerves to no end and that in itself be some kind of motivating force, just leaves me feeling and thinking blah. On the way up here we left 81 and were winding through the gorge that runs along the Potomac, in and out of Virginia, West Virginia and we passed this roadside stand, Kettle Corn. Frances wanted to stop, but I kept going and she said I was humbug about it and that if I'd stop, it'd make all the difference. So, I did turn around but the fella was packing up and so we missed out. Did find out what Kettle Corn is though--popcorn slightly sweet, slightly salty. Anyway, that was good me turning around. Right now though, I feel consumed by this blah. I feel like I either need a big ole break, or to get off my ass and I can't decide which one it is. I'll go read Molu, and Brittiania, and Frances and hopefully be ready to deal with the day. There's a redwing blackbird at the feeder outside the window this morning. Eating off the ground. There's also this albino wren that hangs out at the feeders too. Alright, that's it for now--I might come back and edit this thing. Blah.
|