So Glenn Beck, the new darling of the Neo-cons, has discovered something evil and subversive in the new "Cash for Clunkers" program - ALL information entered into this new Welfare system can be tracked by government agencies foreign and domestic for whatever reason.
They're after us! They're after us! The sky is falling! The sky is falling!
Dumbazzes. We've been tracked for years, since before the Patriot Act, and NOW they're freaking? Reminds me of Madeleine Kahn in Blazing Saddles, "It's Twue, It's Twue!" Star Wars was already firmly in place in the heavens, long before Ronnie Reagan broke the news. (I know - my brother worked on it in the '70's.) So were a lot of other things - things that people insisted were mere conspiracy theorists' maunderings.
Like the Tea Parties and all of the other hysterical reactions, this stuff just cracks me up. Where was everyone 20 years ago when this really started happening? Most folk today weren't even born in 1914 when the Fed Reserve was started and started printing money without backing in gold. Yet like good little sheep they have followed along, going along to get along, whining about the dot.com revolution and Enron and the housing scandal and Madoff that cost them millions in unsecured funds -because they were not smart enough to understand that WHEN THERE IS NO INTRINSIC VALUE, money means nothing - literally nothing. It is a fantasy of "legal tender" that has no basis in reality. And because it is not reality-based, tangible and fungible, it can be manipulated by anyone seeking "riches" and power. Just like their 'freedoms' and their 'rights', that have been expanded so far with hysterical hyperbole, emotionalism, and fear, so as to mean absolutely nothing.
They think the whole think started when they woke up last year, when it has been going on for decades while they danced and sang at all the parties funded by nothing, backed by nothing. They are screaming, ranting, and raving at the end, not at the beginning. And there is nothing that can be done to save them now - all of those self-satisfied people who have suddenly had the rug snatched out from under them, whimpering and whining because Mommy, it hurts! Kiss and make better!
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Friday, July 31, 2009
Economics 101 - FAIL
One of my fondest memories is watching John Rogers, the headmaster of Thomas Heyward Academy, pound his head on a cement block wall when Jasper County Chairman DP Lowther announced - "We were in the red but I borrowed more money so now we're in the black, and everything is good!"
What IS it with stupid people who don't understand how money works? Not even the basics?
The American public bailed out GM with money that it didn't have; it borrowed on future hopes and dreams, not reality. Then they started the "Cash For Clunkers" program that was supposed to go until November - which it didn't, it is already out of money as people have turned in their "old" and not-so-old cars to government-owned-and-operated GM for new cars and trucks. So now the government wants to borrow even more money to ensure that this program lasts, "because it is doing so well". WHAT THE FUCK?
Is no one thinking AT ALL?
Where is this money coming from, and will it ever be paid back - and by whom?
The whole idea for "trade in allowances" is so that the receiving dealership can make money on used car sales - either on their own lot or with sales to a broker. That won't happen, because the money forked out for these cars, FAR OVER THEIR ACTUAL WORTH, is gone. GM doesn't care, it isn't "their" money, it's the government's. The "buyer" doesn't care; s/he's got their cash and their brand new vehicle. Whether or not they will still have them, or be able to pay for them, six months down the road, doesn't matter. Whether they will have a job six months down the road, or even food to eat, doesn't matter. Deguvmint is givin dem money now bygod and they will take it, and the purty shiny new car too.
Thanks, I'll stick with my Toyotas. No government had to bail them out; quality vehicles that sold for far less than a GM plastic fantasy. Tough and impossible to kill, even with bullets in the radiator. Paid for and proud, no cost now, except taxes, tags and insurance. And the fuel to run them (not very often, I don't go anywhere much). Not for me the lure of increasing debt and then the inevitable casting off of the unusable, overly expensive GM albatross from around my neck, no thanks. I won't buy into the whole "gubbermint owes me a car, too!" scam being perpetrated on the stupid. Although I do know who will be eventually paying for it, just like Jasper County's dream of being in the black while delving ever deeper into taxpayers' pockets. Betcherass.
My beloved friend John must have concussed himself by now. Are people really this stupid? Yes, by god, they are. The Cash for Clunkers program is a success, oh, my yes indeed. Until the time comes - and it always does -to pay the piper.
What IS it with stupid people who don't understand how money works? Not even the basics?
The American public bailed out GM with money that it didn't have; it borrowed on future hopes and dreams, not reality. Then they started the "Cash For Clunkers" program that was supposed to go until November - which it didn't, it is already out of money as people have turned in their "old" and not-so-old cars to government-owned-and-operated GM for new cars and trucks. So now the government wants to borrow even more money to ensure that this program lasts, "because it is doing so well". WHAT THE FUCK?
Is no one thinking AT ALL?
Where is this money coming from, and will it ever be paid back - and by whom?
The whole idea for "trade in allowances" is so that the receiving dealership can make money on used car sales - either on their own lot or with sales to a broker. That won't happen, because the money forked out for these cars, FAR OVER THEIR ACTUAL WORTH, is gone. GM doesn't care, it isn't "their" money, it's the government's. The "buyer" doesn't care; s/he's got their cash and their brand new vehicle. Whether or not they will still have them, or be able to pay for them, six months down the road, doesn't matter. Whether they will have a job six months down the road, or even food to eat, doesn't matter. Deguvmint is givin dem money now bygod and they will take it, and the purty shiny new car too.
Thanks, I'll stick with my Toyotas. No government had to bail them out; quality vehicles that sold for far less than a GM plastic fantasy. Tough and impossible to kill, even with bullets in the radiator. Paid for and proud, no cost now, except taxes, tags and insurance. And the fuel to run them (not very often, I don't go anywhere much). Not for me the lure of increasing debt and then the inevitable casting off of the unusable, overly expensive GM albatross from around my neck, no thanks. I won't buy into the whole "gubbermint owes me a car, too!" scam being perpetrated on the stupid. Although I do know who will be eventually paying for it, just like Jasper County's dream of being in the black while delving ever deeper into taxpayers' pockets. Betcherass.
My beloved friend John must have concussed himself by now. Are people really this stupid? Yes, by god, they are. The Cash for Clunkers program is a success, oh, my yes indeed. Until the time comes - and it always does -to pay the piper.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
No Roller Coaster, thanks
Yesterday my next door neighbor came up to the house in a mild panic. She had gotten all of her stuff together to paint (oil-based) and - had forgotten brushes. She thought she had some big ones but didn't. It's a 40 mile trip one way to buy brushes, and she was in a hurry. Well of course we have brushes - tons of 'em, use 'em all the time since last year, fixing the place up. So we gave her some.
Then she is having karaoke at her bar this weekend and needed posters. Everyone in town now knows that I have a smashing art program and do great posters, so she asked me to make her six. I made 8 - just in case - and put them up around town for her.
My fee? Drinks at karaoke night of course! LOL
Contrast the busy working atmosphere and aggressive fun challenges of everyday life with the desperate and pathetic drama queens I'm used to dealing with, and the comparisons are stark.
I really did want to snatch them up, shake them by their collars and shriek in their pathetic faces, "SHADDUP! STOP WHINING!" - but then of course that made me 'mean', 'unsympathetic'. I don't understand the attraction of drama queens to others. They can't hold a job. They can't stay in school. They can't they can't they can't - do anything on their own. They'll see doctors endlessly and come up with different diagnoses every time - and different drugs. Then of course they get "addicted" to the drugs. (Bullshit. They don't know what an addiction IS.) Then of course they lie about not only their diagnoses but their drugs. Then they lie about their jobs. Then they lie about their lives. Then they lie about their motivations. They tell different lies to different people, never thinking that -hey - some of these people know each other and might talk to each other. When caught, they say they were misunnerstood - or blame it on the drugs, their desperation, etc. People whom they say were dying weren't even sick. Trips they had to take to save someone else were non-existent. Rapes and assaults that never occurred, could not have occurred, in the time frames they give. Lies, lies, and more lies to cover up those lies. It is a never ending fantasy life with them, and they drag people into it as rapidly and voiciferously as they can.
WHY do they do it? Because it works for them. They get the attention they so desperately need and demand, 24-7, from people who enable them as surely as some parents, friends and family enable drug addicts and drunks. There are always people around who NEED to play the strong and protective type, who NEED other peoples' endless dependence on them, who are gratified by the drama queens' endless helplessness and whining, lies and manipulations, because it makes them feel superior. And the Drama queens LET them feel superior, all the time thinking that everyone around them is soooo stupid to be manipulated - and that it is they, the queens, who are really superior. ("Look how many people I can get to buy into this crap, over and over again!") It is an endless and gripping, roller coaster fantasy world of mutual dependence and mutual disgust, mutual superiority and mutual disdain. The word "respect" - either self respect or respect for others - is lost in the endless drowning waves of self-indulgence and sympathy.
Yawn. So glad I'm out of that. My definition of passion is mutual respect, mutual effort, and mutual enjoyment. Those who need the endless Sturm und Drang, highs and lows, of dependence and desperate, whining, crying, lying, self pity and self-indulgence, are fooling themselves. But hey - whatever floats their boat. Straight-up and point blank is where I live. Don't like it? Need that soft cushion of lies, dependence, and simpering giggles? Go for it. Just don't make me listen to it. I have a real life, and real relationships, not founded on lies and self-delusion. Don't tell me you've found your permanent career (for the third time this year) or your One True Love for the fourth marriage. You bore me. Lie to yourself all you want. Just stop lying to me. We both know what you are.
Now, what should I wear to karaoke night? On with real life. At least when I pretend to be something I'm not, it's obvious, tongue-in-cheek, fun, and no one gets hurt.
Then she is having karaoke at her bar this weekend and needed posters. Everyone in town now knows that I have a smashing art program and do great posters, so she asked me to make her six. I made 8 - just in case - and put them up around town for her.
My fee? Drinks at karaoke night of course! LOL
Contrast the busy working atmosphere and aggressive fun challenges of everyday life with the desperate and pathetic drama queens I'm used to dealing with, and the comparisons are stark.
I really did want to snatch them up, shake them by their collars and shriek in their pathetic faces, "SHADDUP! STOP WHINING!" - but then of course that made me 'mean', 'unsympathetic'. I don't understand the attraction of drama queens to others. They can't hold a job. They can't stay in school. They can't they can't they can't - do anything on their own. They'll see doctors endlessly and come up with different diagnoses every time - and different drugs. Then of course they get "addicted" to the drugs. (Bullshit. They don't know what an addiction IS.) Then of course they lie about not only their diagnoses but their drugs. Then they lie about their jobs. Then they lie about their lives. Then they lie about their motivations. They tell different lies to different people, never thinking that -hey - some of these people know each other and might talk to each other. When caught, they say they were misunnerstood - or blame it on the drugs, their desperation, etc. People whom they say were dying weren't even sick. Trips they had to take to save someone else were non-existent. Rapes and assaults that never occurred, could not have occurred, in the time frames they give. Lies, lies, and more lies to cover up those lies. It is a never ending fantasy life with them, and they drag people into it as rapidly and voiciferously as they can.
WHY do they do it? Because it works for them. They get the attention they so desperately need and demand, 24-7, from people who enable them as surely as some parents, friends and family enable drug addicts and drunks. There are always people around who NEED to play the strong and protective type, who NEED other peoples' endless dependence on them, who are gratified by the drama queens' endless helplessness and whining, lies and manipulations, because it makes them feel superior. And the Drama queens LET them feel superior, all the time thinking that everyone around them is soooo stupid to be manipulated - and that it is they, the queens, who are really superior. ("Look how many people I can get to buy into this crap, over and over again!") It is an endless and gripping, roller coaster fantasy world of mutual dependence and mutual disgust, mutual superiority and mutual disdain. The word "respect" - either self respect or respect for others - is lost in the endless drowning waves of self-indulgence and sympathy.
Yawn. So glad I'm out of that. My definition of passion is mutual respect, mutual effort, and mutual enjoyment. Those who need the endless Sturm und Drang, highs and lows, of dependence and desperate, whining, crying, lying, self pity and self-indulgence, are fooling themselves. But hey - whatever floats their boat. Straight-up and point blank is where I live. Don't like it? Need that soft cushion of lies, dependence, and simpering giggles? Go for it. Just don't make me listen to it. I have a real life, and real relationships, not founded on lies and self-delusion. Don't tell me you've found your permanent career (for the third time this year) or your One True Love for the fourth marriage. You bore me. Lie to yourself all you want. Just stop lying to me. We both know what you are.
Now, what should I wear to karaoke night? On with real life. At least when I pretend to be something I'm not, it's obvious, tongue-in-cheek, fun, and no one gets hurt.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
You have GOT to be kidding me...
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
There I was yesterday, talking with my daughter on the phone, having a good long conversation about any and everything. Suddenly the phone 'blipped', alerting me that there was someone else trying to call. I looked at the phone to see who it was.
The number was for someone 'back there'. Now, let me tell you about this person. For 20 years she was one of the nastiest, meanest, rudest, most backstabbing, lying people in my life. She thought she knew everything, especially about me. She accused me of everything under the sun. She even sat in front of my DH at my last meeting, making snide comments and calling me a liar out loud with her dau-in-law. She always insisted to everyone who ever listened that I was doing everything that I suppose she wished she could do - cheating, sneaking, and stealing. She was vicious and had no sympathy for anyone, ever, at any time - except herself. She was a "good churchgoing Christian woman"- the type that one would not attend any church she went to if one could help it, because her face was always in everyone else's, telling stories and shoving her own lack of self-respect and common decency in everyone else's faces. No matter how polite anyone was to her, she was adamant that she knew everything, and always demanded that she be catered to. Did she care that she hurt my children with her lies, or that she insulted my husband with them? Of course not! Did she feel anything for the friends of mine whom she harassed and did her best to insult or embarrass because they were my friends? Don't be silly. She couldn't care less.
So, over a year after I leave and go 1700 miles away, why on earth would this person track me down and try to call? I gave maybe three people back there my phone number... mainly because, between my 60-acre farm and my job responsibilites, I am rarely near a phone. Email is about the only way to reach me with any certainty.
One of my new local friends said it best "She misses you. A dysfunctional relationship is better than none at all. She's probably ran out of people to insult and torment. Why not invite her out to see the sights? Our area has a lot of places where bodies will never be found - and haven't been for YEARS."
See, that's what I like about where I live. Blunt speaking and honesty, and no false sweetness and light. Termagants aren't permitted to try to run peoples' lives out here - they are told off and put in their places.
I don't know why this poor, pathetic, purposefully cruel and vindictive creature suddenly, desperately, needs to speak to me. But I do know that she will get quite a shock if she calls back. Because, you see, I don't have to be polite or nice to her anymore, don't have to listen to her, don't have to put up with her rants or rudeness or self-righteousness any more.
The funny thing is that I have been good friends with her daughter for years and years. Her daughter is her mother's exact opposite - funny and fun and crazy, full of love and intelligence, and not afraid to speak her mind or show her affection. She has always been a bright spot in my life - and I never wanted to offend her, even though she knows exactly what her mother is. We simply don't discuss her mother, we just discuss things amongst ourselves and enjoy each other's company and emails and conversations. I don't judge her by her mother, just as she has never judged me by mine.
I'd hate to lose my friend. But if that phone rings again and it's her mother, what I will say to her will of course be repeated and exaggerated and embellished and lied about, like every other thing I've ever said to this cruel and vicious, hatefilled woman. But it will be said... and I will be laughing at her and enjoying every damned minute of it. You see, I don't have to put up with that sort of hysterical and vicious hate, that severe and open mental derangement any more that other people excuse as "just her way" - it may be sad and pathetic and just too bad, but it isn't my problem any more. And don't think that I won't let her know it, in no uncertain terms.
And if my daughter has to put up with her cruel crap, she won't hold back either. She's heard enough from this insanely jealous, insanely cruel woman all of her life that she has had enough, too.
There I was yesterday, talking with my daughter on the phone, having a good long conversation about any and everything. Suddenly the phone 'blipped', alerting me that there was someone else trying to call. I looked at the phone to see who it was.
The number was for someone 'back there'. Now, let me tell you about this person. For 20 years she was one of the nastiest, meanest, rudest, most backstabbing, lying people in my life. She thought she knew everything, especially about me. She accused me of everything under the sun. She even sat in front of my DH at my last meeting, making snide comments and calling me a liar out loud with her dau-in-law. She always insisted to everyone who ever listened that I was doing everything that I suppose she wished she could do - cheating, sneaking, and stealing. She was vicious and had no sympathy for anyone, ever, at any time - except herself. She was a "good churchgoing Christian woman"- the type that one would not attend any church she went to if one could help it, because her face was always in everyone else's, telling stories and shoving her own lack of self-respect and common decency in everyone else's faces. No matter how polite anyone was to her, she was adamant that she knew everything, and always demanded that she be catered to. Did she care that she hurt my children with her lies, or that she insulted my husband with them? Of course not! Did she feel anything for the friends of mine whom she harassed and did her best to insult or embarrass because they were my friends? Don't be silly. She couldn't care less.
So, over a year after I leave and go 1700 miles away, why on earth would this person track me down and try to call? I gave maybe three people back there my phone number... mainly because, between my 60-acre farm and my job responsibilites, I am rarely near a phone. Email is about the only way to reach me with any certainty.
One of my new local friends said it best "She misses you. A dysfunctional relationship is better than none at all. She's probably ran out of people to insult and torment. Why not invite her out to see the sights? Our area has a lot of places where bodies will never be found - and haven't been for YEARS."
See, that's what I like about where I live. Blunt speaking and honesty, and no false sweetness and light. Termagants aren't permitted to try to run peoples' lives out here - they are told off and put in their places.
I don't know why this poor, pathetic, purposefully cruel and vindictive creature suddenly, desperately, needs to speak to me. But I do know that she will get quite a shock if she calls back. Because, you see, I don't have to be polite or nice to her anymore, don't have to listen to her, don't have to put up with her rants or rudeness or self-righteousness any more.
The funny thing is that I have been good friends with her daughter for years and years. Her daughter is her mother's exact opposite - funny and fun and crazy, full of love and intelligence, and not afraid to speak her mind or show her affection. She has always been a bright spot in my life - and I never wanted to offend her, even though she knows exactly what her mother is. We simply don't discuss her mother, we just discuss things amongst ourselves and enjoy each other's company and emails and conversations. I don't judge her by her mother, just as she has never judged me by mine.
I'd hate to lose my friend. But if that phone rings again and it's her mother, what I will say to her will of course be repeated and exaggerated and embellished and lied about, like every other thing I've ever said to this cruel and vicious, hatefilled woman. But it will be said... and I will be laughing at her and enjoying every damned minute of it. You see, I don't have to put up with that sort of hysterical and vicious hate, that severe and open mental derangement any more that other people excuse as "just her way" - it may be sad and pathetic and just too bad, but it isn't my problem any more. And don't think that I won't let her know it, in no uncertain terms.
And if my daughter has to put up with her cruel crap, she won't hold back either. She's heard enough from this insanely jealous, insanely cruel woman all of her life that she has had enough, too.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Busy? No, TG, Not at All
And so life goes on.
Dad always said the old 'hole in the water' - If you ever think you matter, stick your hand in the water and pull it out. The hole that is left is how much you matter.
Which is totally what I expected - no matter what my friends said - and said that they wanted.
When one of my new friends asked what we were doing for the Fourth, I said, "the potluck picnic in the park and then the fireworks."
"So you don't have plans?"
I spent the last 20 years of my life having plans. Being at everyone else's beck and call. Going to their parties and having meetings, not being able to just sit back and enjoy food and desultory conversation. Not having many real friends, but only business acquaintances who wanted something. Being treated like I was "Special" even though they and I both knew I was not - they just wanted something. Or working to make sure everything went as planned, all of the people and things in the right places, all of the plans and meetings going off as scheduled and desired.
Unhappy? Desperately. I'd much rather sit around with some friends new and old and talk about plants and weather and places we've been and why we don't want to be there any more. Some new friends - a brand inspector and a cowboy - sat with us and told us about their adventures in Wyoming, Kansas, and Colorado - and why they came here and didn't ever want to leave. All of us at the table agreed it was the people that made the difference. Sure, scenery was nice, but the political crap and liberal garbage was draining and boring and ever-present. Better here where everyone thinks the same way, feels the same way, and appreciates the same things. Good food, honesty, and hard work. Quiet fun, not forced smiles and forced activities that no one really wants to do. NOT having to smile indulgently over other peoples' rude, ugly, and stupid whiny children and listen to their just as rude, ugly, stupid and whiny parents gush about them. Here, children are seen and not heard - they go play and don't bother the grownups. You can appreciate them and their parents' parenting skills even more, when the kids all say, "Yes, mam" and "No, mam" and "Excuse me, mam". Had my kids been raised here, they would have fit right in, not been considered freaks like they were back east, polite and honest and never intrusive.
So, yeah, as I fade into the sunset and other peoples' memories, no longer a "threat" to their insecurities, I fade quickly out of their lives and mutual and shared hysterias and fanaticisms. I disappear off of their minds and Facebook pages and forums and blogs. And I am content to do so. Now I'm just "the lady with the white fence with roses on it". The lady who does ceramics in her basement. The lady with the wild garden and the strangely painted boxes that scoot between the rows of her garden, where the chickens cluck and scratch. Or even just the school secretary. I am no one, and no one needs or demands anything from me any more. Thank God.
Glad to be that hole in the water, glad to be that empty space so quickly filled in with the gush and roll of nonentity. Glad to be with people who really do think and act and behave and believe as I, who don't need to be cosseted and cared for and handed their lives on a silver platter, because they have no idea what to do with them and never did. Glad to be very far away from those miserable, angry, and pathetic people who can only feel empowered when they lie and cheat and steal and grind others underneath them and their sick and sickening desires.
Dad always said the old 'hole in the water' - If you ever think you matter, stick your hand in the water and pull it out. The hole that is left is how much you matter.
Which is totally what I expected - no matter what my friends said - and said that they wanted.
When one of my new friends asked what we were doing for the Fourth, I said, "the potluck picnic in the park and then the fireworks."
"So you don't have plans?"
I spent the last 20 years of my life having plans. Being at everyone else's beck and call. Going to their parties and having meetings, not being able to just sit back and enjoy food and desultory conversation. Not having many real friends, but only business acquaintances who wanted something. Being treated like I was "Special" even though they and I both knew I was not - they just wanted something. Or working to make sure everything went as planned, all of the people and things in the right places, all of the plans and meetings going off as scheduled and desired.
Unhappy? Desperately. I'd much rather sit around with some friends new and old and talk about plants and weather and places we've been and why we don't want to be there any more. Some new friends - a brand inspector and a cowboy - sat with us and told us about their adventures in Wyoming, Kansas, and Colorado - and why they came here and didn't ever want to leave. All of us at the table agreed it was the people that made the difference. Sure, scenery was nice, but the political crap and liberal garbage was draining and boring and ever-present. Better here where everyone thinks the same way, feels the same way, and appreciates the same things. Good food, honesty, and hard work. Quiet fun, not forced smiles and forced activities that no one really wants to do. NOT having to smile indulgently over other peoples' rude, ugly, and stupid whiny children and listen to their just as rude, ugly, stupid and whiny parents gush about them. Here, children are seen and not heard - they go play and don't bother the grownups. You can appreciate them and their parents' parenting skills even more, when the kids all say, "Yes, mam" and "No, mam" and "Excuse me, mam". Had my kids been raised here, they would have fit right in, not been considered freaks like they were back east, polite and honest and never intrusive.
So, yeah, as I fade into the sunset and other peoples' memories, no longer a "threat" to their insecurities, I fade quickly out of their lives and mutual and shared hysterias and fanaticisms. I disappear off of their minds and Facebook pages and forums and blogs. And I am content to do so. Now I'm just "the lady with the white fence with roses on it". The lady who does ceramics in her basement. The lady with the wild garden and the strangely painted boxes that scoot between the rows of her garden, where the chickens cluck and scratch. Or even just the school secretary. I am no one, and no one needs or demands anything from me any more. Thank God.
Glad to be that hole in the water, glad to be that empty space so quickly filled in with the gush and roll of nonentity. Glad to be with people who really do think and act and behave and believe as I, who don't need to be cosseted and cared for and handed their lives on a silver platter, because they have no idea what to do with them and never did. Glad to be very far away from those miserable, angry, and pathetic people who can only feel empowered when they lie and cheat and steal and grind others underneath them and their sick and sickening desires.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
This is my Eternal Summer
My life is so very different now.
I only 'work' 10 months out of the year; of course there are times when I do have to go in during the remaining two months. Next week I'm scheduled for a class to keep/enhance my certification in what I do; I have State reports to file the first of every month, and I have to sort and distribute supplies when they come in - which they will, off and on, for the next two months until school starts again.
Which is perfect for me. I have a HUGE garden - well, actually two of them, all told about two acres. There s the West Garden, which is all of my 'everyday' garden foods - tomatoes and radishes, collards and mustard greens, spinach and lettuce, squash and zucchini, and carrots and cabbages and corn and green beans and onions and... well, the usual stuff.
The East Garden is my 'experimental' garden. Here I'm growing not just things that I know will grow well here - like potatoes - but things that I've been told won't grow at all, or have never been tried, or that sprawl out too much for a smaller, more precise garden plot. A row of pumpkins, a row of watermelons - the small, 'early' type, that grow quickly and don't take 120 days or more of hot weather. Cantaloupes and 'muskmelons'. Oats and wheat. peanuts, and potatoes - two rows of potatoes.
Oh, crap, I think I've planted too many potatoes. I really didn't expect them all to come up - some were just old potatoes from storage. But it seems that every one of them is determined to grow. Every. Single. One.
There's strawberries, too, in between one apricot tree (I planted two ) and the plum tree next to the apple tree down the driveway. Gooseberry plants and blueberry plants, too. It's a long driveway.
Now that everything's in the ground, I have to weed them and feed them and keep them bug-free. There is the cutest HUGE pair of bunnies that gambol across other peoples' yards - not mine as yet. Hassenpfeffer, anyone? Because for sure I'll be looking for them if they wander into the gardens. There's a four-foot king snake in the East Garden - and I won't bother her. She eats gophers and they say that watching a king snake fight off a rattler - and kill it - is something to see. I planted the onons and garlic on the perimeter of the West Garden, and that plus the fact that there's a lot of horse poop and other compost in the rows may be off-putting to the deer. If not - I have a big freezer.
I may end up loading the quantities of produce into the back of the pickup bed and selling them by the road. Anything that's left, that I can't can or dehydrate or freeze or cook right away, just might be for sale... or left on neighbor's back porches, even in their unlocked cars... ahem.
Then there's the chickens. 10 hens and 10 roosters, just a month old so far. I'll put one of two roosters - the most obnoxious ones - with five hens each in chicken tractors, chicken coops with attached yards on runners, built to scoot between the rows in the garden, to keep down the bug invasions that happen the end of July here. They will spend their fertilizer between this year's rows, preparing for next year's rows. The rest of the roosters will be fattened in a separate pen and will be trussed up, lined up hanging upside down, then their throats cut, then processed for the freezer. THAT will be a messy weekend in August. Then my 10 'girls' will be producing their big brown eggs starting at the end of the summer...
We had to replace the wall oven. The old one will make a perfect miniature smokehouse; we stashed it back. I'm raking up the spoiled hay from the winter horse-feed bale out of the barn, and using the dry hay to mulch, the rotting hay and horse poop to start the new compost pile. We have to take down the storm windows and clean them and the huge old fashioned leaded-glass windows in the frames have to be reglazed and recaulked. We did some last year before winter set in, but not all. It is a challenge. Then there's things to build and things to rebuild; wood to chop for the cast-iron stove and set up to dry and cure for the winter.
Doesn't sound like much of a "vacation", does it?
But I'm planning on taking a short trip the end of June to my brother's in Idaho. My brother - whom my mother abandoned in a boardinghouse when he was six - and I found each other again 10 years ago. Since then we have taken great pleasure in each other's company. But there's a national miniature cattle show not 60 miles west of him. I have sparked his interest in these cattle; 22% butterfat in the milk, makes excellent cheese and butter, and they are foragers, like goats, don't require the hay and corn and grain feed-ups that the big cattle do. He has a house and money with no real property, and I have 60 acres. We are talking about starting our own little herd here; of good grass-fed beef and good cheeses and butter. Most times I preach against going into business with family, but, well... The long weekend in Idaho sounds like such fun, whether we buy cattle or not. They're not in the Plan for another two years, but..
Then of course there is the Star Gazer's Party in July; where everyone gathers at the local river and national park for a whole week to lay on their backs and look at the stars. DH and I missed the one last year, he had bronchitis. But this year I am determined to go. The astronomy professor from UN brings his class and telescopes down to the river and holds free classes on the stars; where they are, what to look for. There is no refraction of city lights here; nothing to get in the way of star-viewing on most nights. The skies here are so covered with tiny points of light that just sitting outside and looking up is like looking into black velvet with a bright light behind it; billions and billions of tiny sparkles. Of course when I say "everyone" - that means about 500 or so people. We are quite glad to be in flyover country.
This is why I moved, what I've always wanted, what I've worked toward and lived for my whole life. To grow things, to produce things, to create things, to be a vital part of life and living, to cast off the Disney World and China Mart existence, to seek after the real meaning of life, the real adventure of it, the real promise of productivity and joy that I find deep within me. My life is my vacation. And even when the snow flies, even when I go back to work full time, this is my Eternal Summer.
I only 'work' 10 months out of the year; of course there are times when I do have to go in during the remaining two months. Next week I'm scheduled for a class to keep/enhance my certification in what I do; I have State reports to file the first of every month, and I have to sort and distribute supplies when they come in - which they will, off and on, for the next two months until school starts again.
Which is perfect for me. I have a HUGE garden - well, actually two of them, all told about two acres. There s the West Garden, which is all of my 'everyday' garden foods - tomatoes and radishes, collards and mustard greens, spinach and lettuce, squash and zucchini, and carrots and cabbages and corn and green beans and onions and... well, the usual stuff.
The East Garden is my 'experimental' garden. Here I'm growing not just things that I know will grow well here - like potatoes - but things that I've been told won't grow at all, or have never been tried, or that sprawl out too much for a smaller, more precise garden plot. A row of pumpkins, a row of watermelons - the small, 'early' type, that grow quickly and don't take 120 days or more of hot weather. Cantaloupes and 'muskmelons'. Oats and wheat. peanuts, and potatoes - two rows of potatoes.
Oh, crap, I think I've planted too many potatoes. I really didn't expect them all to come up - some were just old potatoes from storage. But it seems that every one of them is determined to grow. Every. Single. One.
There's strawberries, too, in between one apricot tree (I planted two ) and the plum tree next to the apple tree down the driveway. Gooseberry plants and blueberry plants, too. It's a long driveway.
Now that everything's in the ground, I have to weed them and feed them and keep them bug-free. There is the cutest HUGE pair of bunnies that gambol across other peoples' yards - not mine as yet. Hassenpfeffer, anyone? Because for sure I'll be looking for them if they wander into the gardens. There's a four-foot king snake in the East Garden - and I won't bother her. She eats gophers and they say that watching a king snake fight off a rattler - and kill it - is something to see. I planted the onons and garlic on the perimeter of the West Garden, and that plus the fact that there's a lot of horse poop and other compost in the rows may be off-putting to the deer. If not - I have a big freezer.
I may end up loading the quantities of produce into the back of the pickup bed and selling them by the road. Anything that's left, that I can't can or dehydrate or freeze or cook right away, just might be for sale... or left on neighbor's back porches, even in their unlocked cars... ahem.
Then there's the chickens. 10 hens and 10 roosters, just a month old so far. I'll put one of two roosters - the most obnoxious ones - with five hens each in chicken tractors, chicken coops with attached yards on runners, built to scoot between the rows in the garden, to keep down the bug invasions that happen the end of July here. They will spend their fertilizer between this year's rows, preparing for next year's rows. The rest of the roosters will be fattened in a separate pen and will be trussed up, lined up hanging upside down, then their throats cut, then processed for the freezer. THAT will be a messy weekend in August. Then my 10 'girls' will be producing their big brown eggs starting at the end of the summer...
We had to replace the wall oven. The old one will make a perfect miniature smokehouse; we stashed it back. I'm raking up the spoiled hay from the winter horse-feed bale out of the barn, and using the dry hay to mulch, the rotting hay and horse poop to start the new compost pile. We have to take down the storm windows and clean them and the huge old fashioned leaded-glass windows in the frames have to be reglazed and recaulked. We did some last year before winter set in, but not all. It is a challenge. Then there's things to build and things to rebuild; wood to chop for the cast-iron stove and set up to dry and cure for the winter.
Doesn't sound like much of a "vacation", does it?
But I'm planning on taking a short trip the end of June to my brother's in Idaho. My brother - whom my mother abandoned in a boardinghouse when he was six - and I found each other again 10 years ago. Since then we have taken great pleasure in each other's company. But there's a national miniature cattle show not 60 miles west of him. I have sparked his interest in these cattle; 22% butterfat in the milk, makes excellent cheese and butter, and they are foragers, like goats, don't require the hay and corn and grain feed-ups that the big cattle do. He has a house and money with no real property, and I have 60 acres. We are talking about starting our own little herd here; of good grass-fed beef and good cheeses and butter. Most times I preach against going into business with family, but, well... The long weekend in Idaho sounds like such fun, whether we buy cattle or not. They're not in the Plan for another two years, but..
Then of course there is the Star Gazer's Party in July; where everyone gathers at the local river and national park for a whole week to lay on their backs and look at the stars. DH and I missed the one last year, he had bronchitis. But this year I am determined to go. The astronomy professor from UN brings his class and telescopes down to the river and holds free classes on the stars; where they are, what to look for. There is no refraction of city lights here; nothing to get in the way of star-viewing on most nights. The skies here are so covered with tiny points of light that just sitting outside and looking up is like looking into black velvet with a bright light behind it; billions and billions of tiny sparkles. Of course when I say "everyone" - that means about 500 or so people. We are quite glad to be in flyover country.
This is why I moved, what I've always wanted, what I've worked toward and lived for my whole life. To grow things, to produce things, to create things, to be a vital part of life and living, to cast off the Disney World and China Mart existence, to seek after the real meaning of life, the real adventure of it, the real promise of productivity and joy that I find deep within me. My life is my vacation. And even when the snow flies, even when I go back to work full time, this is my Eternal Summer.
Monday, May 25, 2009
The Difference
I used to be on a Festival Committee, and am on the one where I live now, too.
This past weekend was my new place's Festival. First we had a parade that was announced by me (I was asked at the last minute; wth, I was already bringing the equipment we'd borrowed to do it anyway). Then there were children's games and horseshoe pitching in the park. Then there was a rodeo, then a huge supper with barbeque, potato salad, beans, cake, and drinks.
I had to spend three weeks calling people to work on the buffet line and bake cakes. All of my volunteers showed up, and we had cake left over - all different types. The folks in charge of the rodeo had different tasks; the guys in charge of the pit BarBQ had different tasks, the folks in charge of the beer garden and dance had different tasks. But it all came together in one day.
Unlike in the past, I didn't have to beg anyone to work, and neither did any other organizer. All of my people showed up, and NOT ONE demanded to be paid for it - again, unlike in the past. Even the one deputy - yes, that's all we needed, ONE, for traffic control on about 500 people - was a volunteer! People didn't pay to be in the parade, it was volunteer. People DID pay for their barbecue dinners - $4.00 for adults. They also paid a dollar or two if they roped or rode in the rodeo. Everything they wanted they paid for - even the Methodists' concession stand. No entrance fee or cover charge for the dance; the band cost $500 and played from 8 to 1 AM. The Beer Garden cost $1.00 a beer. There was no violence, no drunken behavior, no rowdiness. And at 1 AM everyone who hadn't left already went home.
Such huge differences from what I'm used to seeing; the rude behavior, the selfish demands for people to be PAID for their time to get a festival up and moving, the rowdiness, the destructiveness, the demands for everything for free. Even though I worked all day on the festival, I still paid for my and DH's meal - because that is the way it is done and supposed to be. We volunteer to keep the festival going, not to get a freebie. I always did it before - did it all for free - but was constantly surrounded by people who would only do it for so long and for so much. It always used to piss me off that they were so mercenary, and cared so little about their community, that they thought they should make a profit off of it.
Now I don't have to deal with that crap any more. Here you not only help each other, but you don't demand to be catered to, you don't make a profit off of others' efforts, and you don't have to listen to the endless whining about "someone else might get more than MEEEEE!" or listen to the "Well, what you SHOULD do is -" from people who won't lift, who have never lifted, a single God-Damned finger that didn't profit them somehow. And that is the biggest difference of all.
This past weekend was my new place's Festival. First we had a parade that was announced by me (I was asked at the last minute; wth, I was already bringing the equipment we'd borrowed to do it anyway). Then there were children's games and horseshoe pitching in the park. Then there was a rodeo, then a huge supper with barbeque, potato salad, beans, cake, and drinks.
I had to spend three weeks calling people to work on the buffet line and bake cakes. All of my volunteers showed up, and we had cake left over - all different types. The folks in charge of the rodeo had different tasks; the guys in charge of the pit BarBQ had different tasks, the folks in charge of the beer garden and dance had different tasks. But it all came together in one day.
Unlike in the past, I didn't have to beg anyone to work, and neither did any other organizer. All of my people showed up, and NOT ONE demanded to be paid for it - again, unlike in the past. Even the one deputy - yes, that's all we needed, ONE, for traffic control on about 500 people - was a volunteer! People didn't pay to be in the parade, it was volunteer. People DID pay for their barbecue dinners - $4.00 for adults. They also paid a dollar or two if they roped or rode in the rodeo. Everything they wanted they paid for - even the Methodists' concession stand. No entrance fee or cover charge for the dance; the band cost $500 and played from 8 to 1 AM. The Beer Garden cost $1.00 a beer. There was no violence, no drunken behavior, no rowdiness. And at 1 AM everyone who hadn't left already went home.
Such huge differences from what I'm used to seeing; the rude behavior, the selfish demands for people to be PAID for their time to get a festival up and moving, the rowdiness, the destructiveness, the demands for everything for free. Even though I worked all day on the festival, I still paid for my and DH's meal - because that is the way it is done and supposed to be. We volunteer to keep the festival going, not to get a freebie. I always did it before - did it all for free - but was constantly surrounded by people who would only do it for so long and for so much. It always used to piss me off that they were so mercenary, and cared so little about their community, that they thought they should make a profit off of it.
Now I don't have to deal with that crap any more. Here you not only help each other, but you don't demand to be catered to, you don't make a profit off of others' efforts, and you don't have to listen to the endless whining about "someone else might get more than MEEEEE!" or listen to the "Well, what you SHOULD do is -" from people who won't lift, who have never lifted, a single God-Damned finger that didn't profit them somehow. And that is the biggest difference of all.
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