fuck it

i don’t own a smart phone
i can’t do “text speak”
i even use
correct punctuation
in every correspondence
spelling out
“okeydoke”
even though it takes five minutes
without a keyboard
on my phone.
also,
if you have sent me a dic pic
my phone won’t open
“big” files
so
that’s why i haven’t
texted you back.

i used to correspond with a guy who always pictured me as living in the 1800s because of my quirks & lifestyle.
ha! i found this in the shed out back where farm equipment goes to die. you bet your fucking ass i am mowing my multiple acres of lawn with it.
suck on that modern society.
RIP zero-turn mower.

i decided to skip the trip to iowa, saving money that would have been spent on gas & food for the trip. & to work on art commissions that will mean more income.
i know i will get out of this trap i have dug. i know i will.
just not today.

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here comes trouble

last night veronica was born to my goat, agatha. agatha is my escape-goat. she will not stay in a pasture for anything. i am hoping veronica changes that….
but maybe i just now have two trouble makers.

meanwhile, claudia, who is now one week old is doing awesome. she is fluffy & bouncy. this morning while i was milking her mom, magdalene, claudia kept jumping on my back–trying to scale me like a small mountain.

checking in

i have been working on getting my patreon page up & running. i have posted several times for my patrons.
i totally have two patrons!!! yay!!!

i was thinking. for those of you who are as poor as me. if you have a way to do trade, i would totally do that. like i be your patron & you be mine? something like that…i’m trying to figure out a way to be accessible while also making some income.
it’s just a boost to know someone thinks my arts, writings, and random ramblings are worth anything.
it’s nice.

also! i am applying for the sustainable arts award for mother writers & mother artists. it’s a nice award, and the best part is how much i realize i value myself when i fill out the application telling them who i am.

meanwhile, i have gotten to second base with my goat magdalene. she is producing lots of milk which i share with her kid, claudia. claudia gets one teat, i take the other. so i have fresh goat’s milk for my tea.

in other news, i had a weird thing happen last week which i am just getting to in my art journal.
an epiphany? a moment of enlightenment? a breakthrough?

at the very least, a new story, similar to “fallen” in being a fictionalized telling of something real to me–this time about my most formative past life.
so…become a patron & you can hear all about that.

or, just talk to me on google hangouts, & i’ll tell you all about it.

here are some teasers for my patron page:

including a journal page about my little voices and one about my imbolc meditation on longing (for my work on the healing wheel.)
and two pages of illustrations for a collaboration i am doing with benjamin davis on his story fetish.

the image is based on my childhood memory of making my first ever comic series on a chalkboard in my basement. a version of “hey diddle diddle” where the members of the nursery rhyme were some sort of soap opera.

new kid on the block

i’ve been spending a lot of time in the shed today. so much cuteness.
but i am getting some art done.
a little.
claudia the kids is nursing successfully & has dried off so she is actually adorable now.

& i’m trying really hard not to obsess about death….

i don’t know what i’m doing

in the mid-90s i was all set to go to school
to study
animal husbandry
i was living with my folks to save money
but then
they did what my folks do best
& i was all
fuck y’all
and got in my car & drove off
leaving my dreams of college behind

flash forward to the fucking mania that convinced me i could just wing it.
i don’t know what i’m doing.
this cute thing showed up this morning & i’m just thinking, “god i hope i don’t somehow kill you–or inadvertently cause your death due to my own ineptitude.”
i don’t know what i’m doing.
both the babe & her mama are looking like they have no clue. i’m looking like i have no clue.

the clueless homestead, that sounds about right.
i need a hunky shepherd with the patience of an oak tree to come and rescue me–i mean, assist me.
stat!

all of me

there was a meeting
& a vote
a consensus
(minus one)
where the nihilist
the fatalist
the realist & the idealist
decided
it was time to do away
with the
optimist
“she fucks everything
up,”
it was agreed
raising expectations
so high
too high
only to see them
crash
when the rest
cannot keep up
don’t even wanna
keep up
leaving everyone
ruined
feeling as if they
were drowning
in that glass
half-full
of unrealistic
dreams
& so
added to the agenda
“how to kill
the
optimist”
…to be
continued….

so i’m not saying that positive thought is dangerous–i am saying that unrealistic positive thought is dangerous.
so, like when i am taking baby steps and things are going good & i am feeling good
but then a little voice pops up and says, “you know, you are so awesome, you should just throw caution to the wind and leap over that bottomless abyss.”
is it optimism? or something entirely different? for the purpose of this page, i have called it optimism. i mean, realism can be positive. and idealism is totally positive. but that part of me that sets me up for failure by making me think i can do more than i can do (or even want to do) that voice has to go.

as much as i admire homesteading. i was perfectly happy doing it in my own small way in an urban setting.
but that little voice was all–no, you should go to the country & go full blast homesteading.
and i did.
now get more & more animals to take care of!
and i did.
and now i am isolated, overwhelmed, and miserable.

so death to the optimist who gives me misleading advice. death.
die die die.

ps. my hair this morning looked exactly like the me smoking the cigar. the “optimist” has the hair-do that she does (two little buns) because i find myself thinking it would be a cute hair thing to do…it’s not. not on me.

ps.ps. i am going through a tremendous energy transformation right now. it was happening already, but then i started reading dodging energy vampires and my world turned upside down.
there will be more on this….

credit to “dogs playing poker” for this illustration

super dooper cuteness

when i was a kid
my name was
mary
so, of course,
i was obsessed with lambs…
i still am.

these two were fresh born this morning to our ewe, elsa. their dad–whom we sold last autumn–was shaun the sheep.

the dead of winter

after a quiet start to winter, central illinois got a snowy blowy storm that dumped like 8 inches & then sculpted those inches into knee deep drifts that have turned my yard into an obstacle course requiring a workout just to get to the goats & ducks.

also, i had to dig out my driveway, both for the mail delivery person as well as for my own plans to ever leave the house. i don’t have a snowblower or a plow. i did it by hand & was more than impressed with how strong i am as well as how fit yoga has kept me. i don’t even have a sore back.

this morning we got the added element of frosting on all the trees & bushes & anything sitting still enough to be frosted.

homesteading blues

as i try to figure out
where i want to be
who i want to be
who i am…
shopping for a new home
means leaving behind some things
i love
but regret i could not love
enough
once upon a time
i was a girl with a gentle spirit
who loved animals
but that spirit was cruelly
broken
& now i am so conflicted
am i a homesteader?
or an urbanite?
can i be both?
can i live without
wide open spaces?
can i thrive
without a ready
community?

i cannot imagine myself staying here without going completely fucking nuts…but when i go to list my critters on craigslist, i struggle to imagine a life without them.
except that it would be a life with less things to worry about.
and that does sound nice.
but no geese wandering through my front yard? no goats taking care of the lawn for me? no ducks randomly flying onto the roof? no turkey to be ambassador to my property?

of course, i have no where to go right now. i just know i cannot stay here. i looked into intentional communities, but all of the ones equipped to house a family our size, are way way too expensive for this mom who does not prioritize income.

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