Reverie & Roots

 Farming is savage.  It is not for the faint of heart.  I have seen and experienced things that I'll never forget and I also will never share.  Not just the deaths, but the heartbreak.  Mercy killings that came too late. Injury and illness that pushed me to the edge of losing my sanity.  It's rain that won't come, or rain that won't stop. It's watching the nest boxes for that first egg day after day only to realize a snakes been eating them. It's watching that first ripe tomato get eaten by a rabbit (or the chickens).  It's rubbing a newborn goat hoping for eyes to flutter open.  It's your animals aging, and slowly, becoming a shadow of who they were.  It's mastitis, and spilled milk. Grotesque injuries that you know will not heal.  It's breaking ice with frozen fingers, and hoping it warms up so there won't be any frostbite.  It's getting the wrong screw, then dropping it, then having to trudge back to find another.  It's spli...

 I used to write a lot. Blog posts, social media posts, poems, stories, and journals. I've always liked writing, but it can be such a challenge to get thoughts into words. Especially words that make sense or relay the things I would want them to. Once, I could write something daily, then I had some writers block and it's like I never really recovered.  I created this blog over a year ago, and it's sat barren and silent. Because I can say anything here. But what do I want to say? When I think of it, I wonder what it is that makes something worth reading? Do I want to share not just the good parts to life but the parts that are grim or grief ridden? What I consistently revert back to is something I value highly in life. Authenticity. It is too common to play parts, placate people, and become a void of a person. We read our bibles and quote scripture but our behavior is the opposite. We edit ourselves to become palatable to the masses.  We have our morals, and ethics, but wh...