Happy birthday...

to me. Last year to enjoy the twenty's. Next year thirty will be my new number. Hopefully I will have something to show for all those years! What ambitions might I have for this next year? How about writing more, photographing on a regular basis, and registering the goats. That last one should have been done a long time ago. A self-imposed photography project should be in the works. I feel I work best when I have a purpose and deadline. As for writing, breathing is easier when putting words on paper. So, a big old happy b-day to me and do something with yourself this year!

broken

i have reached a point where i have so much at war inside me, that none of it will come out. The people that need to hear it will not listen. So, i sit and devour the life of someone else for a brief brush with escape. i am flying, the horse beneath me is now pegasus, racing steadily away from my biography. And then someone is at the door. i am home again.

Serenity

For me, serenity is something that does not exist. My nights are filled with intense dreams, most are forgotten, yet the emotional toll they extract is till evident. My days are hectic, scurrying to make up time from the moment my head leaves the pillow. i know there is a thing called peace, though, for my cat reminds me daily. Taunting me, teasing me, lying there with that smug grin affixed to her angelic face. Surely she does not mean to torment me so just by napping in plain sight. Or, maybe that is the way of the feline. Remind me of what i can not do, can not obtain in my slumber. i am happy for her, though, this peaceful cat. If she had not joined our household on that Christmas eve years ago, she would have instead been forced to sleep forever.

Sometimes...

Years ago, after getting married, the realization dawned on me that although someone now looked to me for dinner, i did not know how to cook. Boiling water for pasta, microwaving frozen dinners, and ordering pizza do not count. For a wedding gift, we recieved a Betty Crocker cookbook that became my salvation. Slowly, after following instructions with each new recipe, i learned to cook. i learned to love to cook. Failures were few, but each one was personally felt. Perfection was a self-imposed requirement. Slowly, miniscule tidbits of wisdom have infiltrated my brain, informing me it is ok to not be perfect, some tastes are acquired, and not every recipe results in good food. One not to try again- mahogany chicken wings. A cookiesheet now must be replaced, and the smoky stench still lingers whenever the oven is heated.

Foggy

sometimes i daydream that i am someone else, somewhere else. days like today with the mists swirling between the trees, i am back in the mountains of new hampshire. a piece of my heart lies hidden, tucked away safely, deep within the confines of the forest. there, i run free, dodging through the trees and around the tall emerald-green ferns. no longer am i pursued by the relentless drag of my "every-day" life. i no longer need physical shelter and sustinance. my eyes absorb everything around me, filling me until i could burst. here, now, i feel whole.

Or, maybe not

i really am not good at doing anything daily, consistantly.

classes are officially over now that the english exam is over and final photo project is handed back. now to wait untill january...

chester the goat gave birth to three kids this past sunday. i got my hands messy helping deliver each one. she was not supposed to get pregnant, especially by a billy goat so much bigger than her, but everyone is doing great. by the time the kids are six months old, they will be taller than momma.

not the end of the world...

ok, so i missed day two of blogging. at least i am on day three.

upon opening the barn door this frosty morning to go feed all the critters, a cute black pony face was on the other side waiting for me. somehow muffy got herself unclipped and had been roaming the barn. the calves were not very thrilled with the marauding pony attempting to get to their hay. the goats and cow just thought it amusing. i put her back where she belongs and fixed the problem. muffy will have to knock the barn down now if she wants to get loose.

yesterday was the last day of photo class. i knew i would get teary-eyed, but it was not over what i expected. donna photographed her dad's recovery after surgery. the photographs were beautiful. they made me remember my grandma, who passed away shortly after last christmas. she had fallen and broken her hip the winter before last. after each surgery, there was a little less of the person i knew and loved there. as opposed to donna's dad who is getting better, she just got progressively worse, until she died. looking at my first christmas without her, i am sad.

regardless of how i feel, our goats will have their babies, the cow will have her calf, and the grass will start growing again this spring. life doesn't stop for the pain to subside, it keeps going so it will dim with time.