& all the chaos
& my unamused
what keeps me busy, inspires me. what inspires me, keeps me busy.
on the bullfrog song homestead with me:
7 muscovy ducksings
and one ex-husband.
i welcome most of these things. okay, all but the ex-husband. i have realized beyond a shadow of a doubt that i do not want to live with him.
whether he’s good or bad, i do not want to live with him.
i want to get on with my life.
and he is not my future.
i do not love him.
this is not artwork…i did not make it.
this is not a fruit or vegetable…i did not grow it.
yet i introduced tyler durden & anna the sheep. i built them a pasture. i make sure they have food & water & clean straw to sleep in should they choose to sleep inside.
so i feel like somehow i made this.
this beautiful little lamb that seemingly dropped out of thin air for as much as i had to do with her actual birth.
i took some friends out to show them our sheep, and there she was. just hanging out with her mama as if she had been there all along.
it was just imbolc, which actually is a word meaning “in the belly” and refers to the lambs inside the sheep at this time of year as we are halfway to spring.
it is time to make ready for spring. time to collect seeds. time to plan gardens. time to start plants that need more time to grow. time to commit to putting down roots.
however, i have been feeling a bit trapped. i am living, as caretaker, on my parent’s land…in their house. i am completely dependent on them as i have no income and have failed to have children with a man who will actually work & pay child support…or show any support at all. the same parents i ran away from as soon as i was legally able to (living in bumfuck, illinois, i dreamed of actually being a run-away, but there was really no where to go & practicality won out & i waited until i graduated high school) i am now somehow indebted to for a place to live and a place to raise my minions.
i am back where i started.
depending on how i look at it.
sure, i can have my dream homestead…but it isn’t really mine…is it?
but i keep on keeping on because i don’t know what else to do.
no one is showing up in shining armor upon a white unicorn to save me from being a single penniless mother of four.
this is the best i can hope for right now.
and i kind of want to just cry about it.
i’m really behind on my artwork this month. it might be because on my to do list is just:
max out my credit cards with cash advances & fake my own death.
i know i should be thankful i have a place to live and am not starving or suffering or being deported or being bullied or living in fear…and i am…just some days i still wallow.