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Archive for January 30th, 2013

State of Desperation

Jan
30

My perverted goose barely left the chicken house yesterday. He woefully paced back and forth in front of it and around it, missing his hens.
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Today, things have moved have sad to worse.
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He’s rubbing up against this pole on the hitching post in the barn yard.
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Flapping his wings, honking, wrapping his long neck around it. And rubbing. Lots of rubbing.
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Then he saw me taking pictures and he got embarrassed.
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And I think I’m afraid to go into the barn yard.

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Tastes Like Spring

Jan
30

Temperatures climbed close to 70 here yesterday. The breeze was warm and the sun felt hot when the clouds cleared. I love it when I have men here working in this kind of weather. They get sweaty and sometimes they take off their shirts.
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In this kind of weather, the whole world feels frisky and full of hope. Everything is possible, even catching that last chicken.
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Grass wants to grow.
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Existing gardens stretch and whisper of work.
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Gardens-to-come dream of being built.
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New trees want to bud.
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Lovers pine.
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Dogs relax their guard.
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Sheep dot.
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Goats lumber heavy with babies.
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The farm tastes like spring, full and rich, yet under the bright, clearing sky, men still don’t take off their shirts. As if they are the only ones who did not get the memo.
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I guess you can’t have everything!

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The Slanted Little House

"It was a cold wintry day when I brought my children to live in rural West Virginia. The farmhouse was one hundred years old, there was already snow on the ground, and the heat was sparse-—as was the insulation. The floors weren’t even, either. My then-twelve-year-old son walked in the door and said, “You’ve brought us to this slanted little house to die." Keep reading our story....



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Walton, WV

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