Something To Talk About

The one thing that most people comment on when they visit me, is how quiet and peaceful it is out here. Even though I'm actually not that far from other people, and even subdivisions, the hills and valleys allow for most street and people noise to be blocked. It is very nice. This week however, it has been a little oppressive or isolating. I don't do well in total solitude for long periods. A few days ago I was watching a special on PBS about 'happiness'; maybe some of ya'll saw it too. It was very interesting. They interviewed a man who had been a POW for 7 years during Vietnam and he talked about how he and the other prisoners communicated by tapping on the walls of their cells. I was fascinated at the elaborate code system that they developed to 'talk' to one another. Now, I am in no way trying to compare my situation to the literal hell these men went through, but it occurred to me that, for me, blogging is a similar system. Tapping on keys to see if anyone will talk back. The desire to reach out to other people is strong and curious. Am I such a freaking loser (by not having anyone of my own to talk to) that just seeing words written on a screen by other folks makes me feel better? Maybe I've just read too many recent blog entries by women rattling on about how their husbands did this or that for them. Oh, he chops the wood, he built that stone flower bed, he builds everything for me etc. etc. Oh well, at least I don't have to cook supper if I don't feel like it. I can just eat popcorn and fruit if I want.

While I have the Bobcat, I went down to the old dam to gather the flagstone that is strewn about there. I'm going to use it to build a large patio and steps in the area behind the house that you see in the photo. The terrain around the dam is very rough and as I picked my way down a particular gully, I spied a perfect, very large piece of flagstone. It was beautiful; I had to have it. No problem except it weighed about 80 lbs. and was at the bottom. No other way but up and over to the waiting bucket of the skid steer on the other side. I got it almost to the top and then slipped in the muck. I had to laugh a little at the image of me and that huge stone rolling 'round and 'round but managed to stop it halfway down the hill and yes, it now resides with a stack of other stones behind the house.

The other day when I was installing siding, I could have sworn I heard chickens somewhere around the house, clucking and such. After a few minutes I walked around to investigate; I know I heard chickens. So, I started calling and clucking to see if I could get them to come out or at least talk back so maybe I could see where they were. If there were any, they probably saw me and said, 'let's get the hell outta Dodge, that woman's crazy!'

I did see a possum tonight. He ran up a small tree and tried to act like a limb.

Perhaps one day I'll unite with a man that loves to talk and then I'll long for the quiet again. Kinda hard to say.


*Bonnie Riatt