The sun just rising over the ridge is simply dazzling this morning; its golden shafts slanting through the nearby budding forest and across the meadows are warming the frozen earth. The trilling of birds in search of mates can be heard along with the cacophonous clucking of our chickens; brooding is first on their minds; an exciting time of the year. Although the air still felt tingly, chilly upon my face and bare hands as I fed the dog and the chickens and milked the goat, despite the snowfall a few days ago, I would have to say that spring has finally arrived. Not only did I hear the joyful sounds of returning wild birds, I also noticed while putting the garbage can away, some brave flowers beginning to burst through the earth. All this rebirth is making me extremely jealous; no rebirth for this old man. Although I don't feel like I'm just putting in time until my time runs out, I'm forced, like it or not, to realize that I've reached the winter of my years and the springtime of my youth has forever vanished.
I have a lot on my plate, many projects to accomplish this year, before the first flakes of winter snow arrive. And as I sit here writing this blog and listening to a chicken laying an egg, the dog barking at a passing truck, I am thinking about the things I have to do today: 1) Paint another picture to send off in the mail this coming Friday (one has to earn a buck) 2) Muck out the chicken coop and the goat's stall (they will be happy) 3) Nail on the baby-barn's exterior wall (my new studio will make me happy). Not sure if I will get all of those chores completed today but I know, regardless of my aches and pains, I will accomplish most of them, unless of course some friends drop by for a visit and waylay my plans.
A friend of mine recently told me "all my chores and another family is what keeps me young". When I said that even my dreams seem to be disappearing, I was told, "If you don't have any more dreams, then that's when you're going to die." I don't know about staying young but I do believe there's a lot of truth in not having any dreams, nothing to wake up to in the morning to get a person excited, at least put a glimmer of a glint in their eye. Being a small time farmer here at Golden Unicorn Farm, where like a kid, I still believe in unicorns and lots of other fanciful things, I've probably given myself enough projects and dreams to last me till the end of my life and beyond. I can remember just the other day as I sat in the kitchen by the wood stove enjoying a hot cup of coffee with my wife Sarah, I said, "I wonder which one of these rooms I'll die in; I guess if it's in the house, it will most likely be in the bathroom while taking a dump; I think a lot of people die that way." That's where and how my father died; had a jammer on the great white porcelain bowl with his pants down around his ankles. Now some people may find that disgusting and demeaning but it's not really - sometimes having an anal orgasm if one has been plugged up for a seriously long time, can feel almost as wonderful as a sexual orgasm. And besides, from what I understand, often when one dies, the cadaver relieves itself anyway - so dropping a smelly, steaming, 16-coiler into the toilet bowl while taking one's final dying breath is actually very thoughtful and polite - nothing to clean up afterward, just flush it down the drain.
The sun has been temporarily blocked by a passing cloud and since I can almost see my breath in my cold studio while writing this blog, I believe I'll end it now and take myself into the house for a hot cup of java before resuming the rest of the chores that need doing today. Ah, taking a deep breath and letting it free, feels good, simply grand; yup, I'm still alive - may not be that good on a dance floor any more or work as hard as I used to but damn, I'm far from being useless - time for me to get on with the remainder of the day - cheers, eh!
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