Time Goes By

I was reminded the other day to post more often and when I arrived here I could not believe the entire month of January was missing. I felt certain I’d written something but…perhaps not. And now…now I must write on a different laptop.

My hard drive surrendered the ghost – or enough of it to render it useless – but I was at least smart enough to have a backup of the files. Sadly, Carbonite does not alert you that any folder/file over 10GB has to be selected manually. So I have tried to do manual downloads of that data but it is slow and I begin to wonder just how much I need it.

The only issue now is that this Dell has a “known issue” with the cursor jumping willy nilly during typing. Whether the space bar solder got too close to the trackpad or it is a bad driver no one seems to know. So tomorrow will find me buying a mouse and keyboard to save my sanity. Indeed, I wonder about finding a cute PS2 to USB connector so I can use the beloved MS Natural keyboard. That appears to be an antique and – ridiculously expensive. Sigh…at any rate, that jumping cursor makes anything more than a paragraph quite the endeavor.

It was a rather quiet Christmas. My father chose to return to Florida which was, in the end, a blessing for us. I don’t know that he ever intended to stay as he never really looked for a place. Rather, he looked for a brief time and then surrendered. I think he enjoyed our home but not the constraints. At any rate…we were both unwell off and on during the month of January and now we are back at it – Sarge having brought something home and I having picked it up. At least we are a few days apart in symptoms so when I am laid low he will be in recovery. I hope.

Before I am quite unwell I decided to get some potting up done – I managed to keep a few herbs alive all winter (quite the feat, really) and am so glad I’ve been able to enjoy them in a brutal season. But now they are out in pots, enjoying the spring weather. This, of course, means that we will see a late frost. Always the way, no? I await the drying out of the garden so that I can begin on that – it needs tilled under but right now it is a heavy and wet mess. Best to let it be a few more days. I intend to fill the (42 x 24 ft) space with as many vegetables as I can as the 3 deer we were given this past month are all in the freezer, now. If I can grow a majority of our produce the grocery bill could be halved.

The next major item is a chicken coop for the eggs. I want to do it right the first time, though. I have, at least, selected a good spot and we need to just choose a shape and size. I prefer a large run to avoid issues and a moderate roosting area. I hope to select for eating as well as laying – a chicken every few weeks would be quite nice. We do have many predators, though, so it has to be built well.

The little monster that Sarge chose to ease the heartache left by the loss of Kota grows like a weed.

All the recent snow photos of her looking in her element are…well, somewhere in the backed up data, sadly. In about 6 months we will have to decide on her surgery for her malformed hip socket. Just now it doesn’t seem to bother her too much – she stretches her hind legs way behind her in the mornings and I wonder if it isn’t an instinctual method of ensuring it is in position. Sooner than that she will have to be spayed. Poor thing – I wish she could be a mommy someday but that is not possible, now.

She is extremely intelligent and quite dominant and opinionated. It takes all I have to not lose my temper some days. I call her the Non-Listener. But she IS getting better. Mostly.

Och, this laptop is the most uncomfortable thing ever. It has sharp edges right where one might rest your wrists. Instead, you have to maintain that pianists pose of hands spritely dancing, wrists high.

It was such a harsh month of weather that I find myself, even as I type this, looking out the open window and enjoying the small breezes coming through. It was nothing but freezing temps, rain, snow, and high winds almost the entire month of January – and December held much the same. I had to bundle up 4 times a day to walk the hellion and then clean the floors over and over with the caked on mud and grime. I can understand how the pioneer women must have felt with rammed dirt floors – what a never-ending mess. Even now I am considering just moving everything out-of-the-way and swabbing the decks like a sailor. Ship shape in Bristol fashion, as they say.

Sarge has had little time to do anything on his list which has remained unchanged since November. I decided I’d might as well start tackling them on my own. Some things I cannot manage but many I can with enough time and concentration. But his college studies take up most of his remaining time off work so I haven’t had much room for complaint. It is vital he gets that work done.

But as he focuses on that I begin to worry about our little piece of heaven here…is there future encroachment to come? Will the blessed view be tainted with new buildings? Will the young inheritors choose to sell the family land rather than care for it? So we keep in mind the awful thought that we might have to sell to ensure we get our investment back. With the world being as hazardous as it is – the economy is uncertain. Sell now? Or wait and see? Did we overpay for the place compared to what others might offer? Nothing is certain, anymore, and I think sometimes that this is better than nothing – than being caught with no safe space if things go very wrong.

I hardly know what to say about the world these days…I track a certain Anon person who offers glimpses into terrible mirrors. Even if wild speculation I hardly think it all false. No, there are terrible people with mighty power and they wield it like a scythe. Anything is possible and I know better than to doubt it entirely. Instead, I just try hard to plan ahead, ensure we have what we need, and pray it all goes smoothly. A lot of pieces appear to be in motion and it takes very little to make it a wreck. I keep remembering a piece on Facebook about 3 years ago – maybe 4. It was a military person issuing a retirement message, perhaps. But in it was a sense of Now Is The Time For All Good Men…it felt then like a message – those in the dark, waiting, were told to light their torches and start the march to the light. It was a cue to action, I felt sure of it. And just wish now that I had made a copy of it. Because it seems as if a legion of individuals have been embedded, silently enduring terrible deeds, knowing that they would be called one day to take their position on the line.

I feel it deeply – that good people are working very hard to save what is left after a generation of ruination. But it will be ugly – no one will let go their position without a fight and any price to keep their power will deemed Worthwhile. I believe half of what I see – lies are everywhere. But I will watch – it is what we are charged with as citizens – to watch, take note, and aid when possible. One never knows when their name will be called. Be ready.