I had considered not coming back to this BLOG. I am just a wee bit fed up with the political state of affairs in my backwoods area of Northeast Kansas. Most of my agricultural neighbors are, like myself and my family, on the conservative side. But I’ve spent a good part of my adult life identifying myself as a professional artist (which I have been ; interior design, gallery owner, photographer, master gardener and landscape design, illustrator and fine art in paint and pastels). That particular group of people have gone just a bit wacko, from my point of view. Although I never talked about my politics or religious beliefs to the vast majority of people, nor did I care about theirs, it seems that if I question any of the narrative presently in the “legacy news”, I am any of several derogatory categories : racist, white supremacist, mass murderer, bigot, etc etc etc.
But here I am anyway. BLOG SPOT you are stuck with me in all of my permutations. I’ve been writing in a journal, adding paper books to the stack of other journals I’ve kept over the years. There are eleven on my history with horses in the barn, a closet full on art in my studio and another closet full about my family in my bedroom. Guess I have something to say even if it is just for myself. Writing keeps me focused, prevents me from being self destructive
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I could talk about my chosen pronouns. I identify as a species fluid, gender fluid, time traveling peacock, feathers and all. Presently I am in the process of molting as well as building a nest. It’s very trying as species fluid living goes. Typing with nothing but feathers to hit the keys is quite challenging. And the time traveling thing … well, you just don’t want to know about that part of things. I haven’t quite figured out how to control that. One moment in the 21st century living down Alice’s rabbit hole and the next it’s the late eighteenth century and I’m hanging ten with Benjamin Franklin. Back and forth, back and forth. I can tell you that after living nearly three centuries earlier people really should stop complaining. You have flush toilets, shampoo that smells good, showers and big screen TV’s. You also have the Constitution of the United States to protect your lawfully protected rights to practice your religion, vote for whomever you want to, and to verbally express yourself without censure. Life isn’t as bad as you think you want it to be.
You have an opportunity, here twenty years or more in to the twenty first century, to be anyone that you want to be. All you have to do is believe in yourself and WORK towards your goal.
At this point you’re trying to figure out who I’m talking to, me or you, dear reader. Me. I am talking to me. And, of course, I am conversing with any peacocks in the area as well as humans who are puzzled by my ever changing feathers and foliage. ( I should have warned you that flowers sometimes spring unexpectedly from my nether parts, mostly dandelions and violets. )
So on to the history of things this past year … we are homesteading. We aren’t full prepper. That concept is very hard for violet spouting peacocks to grasp. But we are growing the majority of our own food. Last year we grew, canned, fermented and dehydrated about 35% of what we eat. This year we have more than doubled our gardens and are focused on 50% or more. Our storage areas are well organized (not an easy accomplishment for a time traveling peacock who converses with Benjamin Franklin in the time continuum) and we have been buying ahead and storing food and sundries for nearly two years now. I’ve started more than 240 plants to put out in to our gardens as well as flowers, lots of flowers. I need color inside and out of our funny, crooked converted barn of a house.
Last year we gave away 54 dozen eggs and five 5 gallon buckets of fresh produce. This year I plan to reach 100 dozen eggs and who knows how much fresh produce. That will depend on the weather patterns. I’m mixing flowers and herbs with produce, companion planting. And not one of those plants will be discussing politics of any kind. We are working our butts off here because we do not have a tractor, just hand tools and determination.
I am still working and playing with my horses, dogs as well as helping neighbors and friends when they need me. I consult occasionally but just for fun. In short, we are living without fear. I definitely suggest that as an alternative to the anxiety I see most people living with.
I am writing here on stolen time. Chores and the earth call. I plan to come back on a regular basis this year, at least between unexpected bouts of time travel.
I am, ever yours, Nancy, laughing out loud!
PS. Just so you know, we did not wear masks, practice “social distancing” (I do not care for that phrase.) or participate in any of the other lunatic behaviors displayed over the past two years. We are still exactly who we have always been.
