Built up some large wire tunnels. Cut and fixed burlap sacks to the bottom halves of tunnels. Filled with dirt and matter. Added potatoes, eyes up. Soaked. When plants are six to nine inches tall I will mulch with hay and fertilizer. Also, I never take these rings off anymore.
S P R I N G
I took a trip to a ranch at the base of a mountain named Whitehorse. There are 90 acres of a valley that home pigs, goats, chickens, an ancient greenhouse, a man made pond, a milking parlour and a dear friend from California. We layed in mowed grass and ate roasted pig. I bottle fed baby goats and let them climb up my back and watched as they tried to eat my hair and sit on my lap and cry and jump and wiggle around. We drank beer that men and women who live in this valley had spent the winter months brewing, and finally, upon the arrival of the nicest day of the year, decided to converge at the ranch and share their ales coupled with jokes about local boys and ideas about what to do with all these male goats and how to milk those few females who dont get distracted by dropping oats.
I ate dark bread made with expelled beer grain, I watched 27 goats be led into a parlour, milked, fed, talked too, and released. I climbed a hill, I played with children, I got too drunk and came home with a hunk of carmel colored bread, a jug of fresh goat milk and a wheel of the ripest cheese.
personally deliver letters to fulfill my once very serious dream of becoming a mail carrier.
decide where it is I will travel this winter, in order to escape the most monotone pacific northwest months, and begin saving money (south, deeper south, southwest, or very east?)
curse the hail that fell from a tiny looking sky this morning that will set back the seeds now sitting in cold dirt and getting eaten by spring birds in the backyard.
lasso some nice person into mini bike touring with me for a week this summer. Olympic Peninsula. Let’s go.
I decided to give up the person I love most in the world the same week I decide to quit smoking cigarettes. one of them was out of my hands and hasnt been mine to hold on to for months and months but ive been stubborn and I had this lofty idea about best friendship being the same thing as you being my partner but ive been fucking naive and if I would have known that I loved you so much I never would have tried to stick around because almost nothing has been this difficult and I’m angry now because recovery is touchy and I feel changed. Cold, and bitter and maybe its a phase and maybe we’ll meet again and have cordiality and too be fucking honest, I would rather never see you again than have to be cordial to you because how the fuck do you go from loving someone so wholly to treating them like a passerby?
I want so badly to close the door on this entire piece of me but you know I wont, and you know I love you too much and you’ll probably keep letting me do this forever and i could say its fucked up, but its impossible for it all to exist in any other light, dont you think?