#farmandbarn

[farmandbarn]

Just some kid books today

Tuesday, 12 June 2018

Spent time organizing some old books. Felt nice to work indoors, even if just for a bit. Some were recognized from childhood. Most in a happy way but one or two I remember having disliked. Where the Red Fern Grows especially. Don’t remember what it was about-- just that I hated it. Think it was in the sixth grade but I’m not positive. That was also the year that our teacher read to us aloud Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret. The whole thing. Took a few weeks. She was going through a divorce at the time. Now it makes sense.

I found these two up there:

Haven’t read Tuck Everlasting but I’ve heard good things about it. Something about a disappointing ending though. But that might work for me. Endings often irritate me. Take the movie Dodgeball. Happy ending, right? Not really a surprise. But the director (if I remember correctly) was going to have an abrupt ending where the good guys simply lose. Everything. They lose everything and the credits roll. That’s it and I love it.

I read Bridge to Terabithia for the first time only a few years back. Powerful stuff. And I don’t mean that sarcastically. This copy I found today had some beautifully stark black-and-white illustrations:

When I opened it up, I found myself on the page below. [Spoiler!] I don’t mind saying I cried again, reading these words. I may have to reread this one. And then the name of the chapter. I mean, goddamn. Simple. Perfect. Gut-wrenching.

Reminds me of my all-time favorite line from Shakespeare:

never, never, never, never, never!

On a lighter note, found this bizarre title:

What can I say? No. Just, no. 

But, to be fair, it was mostly stuff like, Look both ways before crossing the street and Don’t get into strange vans driven by strangers.

Oh, and I found Fog Magic. It has one of those silver medals so I guess it must be famous and well loved. Never heard of it. The title’s great and I love the images it brings to mind.

Imagine creating an impenetrable fog by sheer will. Then the old ones and the nameless ones cross over. They partially obey this little girl who is slowly realizing that she has no feelings. Why couldn’t Lovecraft have written this?

Again, don’t know what it’s really about. But I can dream.

...

Didn’t spend much time thinking about myself today. About my life, I mean. And so, well, I felt pretty ok.

Kind of a sad commentary there but... true.

[farmandbarn]

Where is Rat?

Friday, 8 June 2018

Worked on the erosion problem and then hours around the barn. I’ve noticed the gnats become frenzied around sunset. A few will sometimes get under the mask, too, at times. Frustrating. But not really-- it’s being lost that dashes my hope.

I waffle daily, hourly, on my relationship, which is in tatters, by the way. She would be better off without me, I say, often. Other times I want to make it work, somehow, some way. Tonight: Do I even want to be with her again? Far too frequently, I realize, she is mean and cruel to me. I always figured it was my fault. I just don’t know. I don’t know about anything.

Had a thought earlier: I wish I could be around nice people. Is that too much to ask? Perhaps. No, it is too much. This is life and that’s not how it works. But, nonetheless, some must be out there. I’ve known a few. Right now, for instance. Out here on the farm, I mean, I only routinely see two people-- one more than the other-- but they’re both nice. Both happen to be friends. And this has been really good, if not for all my bad thoughts. They’ve become crippling. At times. Not always. And, truthfully, it’s been getting better now that I’ve been here.

Who I truly miss are these two:

Been reading The Wind in the Willows for the first time. Published in 1908 by Kenneth Grahame. An extraordinary collection of tales following the adventures of Mole, Rat, Mr. Badger, and Mr. Toad. All unique personalities. I find myself most drawn to Rat, who is generous and kind. He would do anything to help a friend. Mole is curious yet timid. Mr. Badger has great wisdom but little patience. He is the most solitary too. As for Mr. Toad, well, he has room for improvement but likable.

I was struck by the author’s daring to include the great god Pan. Not as a metaphor and nor was he merely vaguely insinuated. He was there! Rat and Mole encounter him and he is a friendly, valiant, and kind god. He appears, in my opinion and limited to the tale, to be of a higher caliber than the god of the desert.

Rat once said the following to Mole and, though I am unsure exactly why, it is one of the most wonderful things I have ever read:

Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing-- absolutely nothing-- half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats. Simply messing--about--in--boats.

[farmandbarn]

The Voyage Home

Saturday, 30 June 2018

Dangerously hot today. Excessive heat warning until 10 pm. Just hellish. That kind of heat puts me in a terrible mood. Thankfully, a magnificent thunderstorm is currently in full swing.

Went to TrekFest in Riverside, Iowa.

The Voyage Home Museum was my favorite part. Full of various memorabilia. Of course, right? It's small, I mean, it's not like some giant national museum. Though I enjoyed it more than any other museum I've been to. But maybe it's the people that make it special. Not the most gregarious bunch, sure, but, in a way, we all knew each other. There wasn't any fear or anxiety there. The owners of the museum couldn't've been friendlier. They listened politely as a man went on and on about his own hometown of Chester, Illinois-- the birthplace of Popeye. A larger woman struck up a conversation with me on the sidewalk. I doubt she would've done that normally. But there, it was ok. And the conversation we had? It was wonderful. I wonder how much I've missed out on simply because people are hesitant to approach one another. Because I’m hesitant.

A wide range, too, at least physically: From a very disabled young man and his mom to, well, some very attractive young women sporting Vulcan ears. But we knew why we were there and so those superficial differences didn't matter. We were the same.

Attended a lecture of sorts given by two college professors (husband & wife) on the behind-the-scenes of Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan. Originally titled, I discovered, The Vengeance of Khan. Changed as a courtesy to the Star Wars franchise, which was already planning on using the title Revenge of the Jedi. There is much love between the two worlds as many have, at least early on, worked on both. I ate raspberry pie with vanilla ice cream during the beginning of their talk.

After, I walked around town for a bit. It's not exactly a wealthy place. You can see it when you get up close. But then, it's a very small town in Iowa-- it's to be expected. They're not known for high-finance and the stock market. There are a few local businesses: A bar/restaurant, a print shop (called Federation Printing or something like that), a coffee shop (coming soon and to be called Trek 22), a do-it-yourself single car wash...It's a farming area, much like where I am now. Well, that, and the future birthplace of Captain James T. Kirk.

Above, downtown Riverside.

The whole area took on a festival feel. Later, I ate a corndog, drank a beer, and listened to a band play that had nothing to do with Star Trek.

[farmandbarn]

Cheers

Tuesday, 19 June 2018

Conium maculatum is the name of the plant pictured below. It is alien to Iowa but grows all over the place-- or at least all over this particular area. Quite beautiful in a quiet way. It can also be used for tea, as it was in Athens in 399BC when Socrates had some. You may know the drink as hemlock.

To be surrounded by this poisonous plant creates unusual feelings in me. Ingesting only a small amount is enough to cause death. Apparently, it is not a peaceful end-- but it seems few ways are.

In the fields, clearing the area around our friend up there, and later on the porch, scrubbing lichen. Also began taking out the floor in the upstairs bathroom. Glad to be doing some renovation work. In the late 1970s or early 80s, someone thought it would be a good idea to cover the original hardwood with plywood in order to install shag carpeting. Let me say that again: Shag carpeting in a bathroom.

The shag is already gone but most of the plywood remains, for now. Not much longer. Sadly, the original hardwood was damaged-- probably when the plywood was put down. Deep scratches and gouges. The harm isn't too bad, and can be sanded down, but it won't be perfect.

Back to Athens, they had a word called kairos: A propitious moment for decision or action. From Wikipedia: In rhetoric, kairos is "a passing instant when an opening appears which must be driven through with force if success is to be achieved." Think I can best understand it by way of chess. In choosing the poison over running away, Socrates was engaging in an opportune moment. I wonder how the opposite action would've altered philosophy. If we were immortal, could we access kairos? Are the gods blind to it?

I don't think the human mind is a passive thing, receiving input, and giving output. For us, one moment is more important than another. We're not like computers. For Heidegger, the mind exists outside of itself and in the shared world. So nothing is really outside. So often, without consideration, the opposite is taken for granted: We are alone in an alien world.

Grant Morrison once wrote that nothing is so big that it can't fit inside your head. Not even the whole universe.

[farmandbarn]

Erosion

Wednesday, 6 June 2018

We’re moving fast on preparing the land. Faster than I thought. Could be that I will be the one to finish it. Markers are being left, so to speak, should some future archaeologist excavate the land. They’ll be able to figure out how it looks in our time and what we did. Will they know the why? I’m sure they could make a decent guess. They might even be right.

Spoke about the current goings-on in Hungary as we toiled. Apparently, a single political party has swept the country. They quickly went about rewriting laws so as to ensure their continued reign indefinitely. Control of the media was next. (I knew nothing about this.) Thus, the erosion of democracy from those democratically elected. 

I mentioned how one could take all the equipment a Marine uses-- weapons, armor, clothes, etc.--and give it to a foreign group. But it wouldn’t matter. They’d be nothing compared to a real American Marine. Because of the culture and institutions America has cultivated over many long years. Without that invisible backing, there is nothing.

Likewise, if a country doesn’t have strong democratic traditions and a culture of democratic ideals... democracy itself becomes a plant without roots. The slightest breeze will carry it away.

A storm came tonight. It was over quickly but it had strength. Saw a bright flash out the window followed by a terrifying and deep boom! The whole house shook. And me too. Scared the hell out of me. But only for a moment. After it passed, it was sunset and the western sky looked like it was on fire.

...

There was a very small chapel in my high school, which received very little traffic. So it was a good place to sneak off to with a friend to talk about life and dreams and all the things teenagers talk about. A good place to smoke a cigarette too. A friend from that time messaged me today. I read the words slowly, trying to make it last as long as I could. Though her impact on my life has been large, there has been only silence for a long time. She seems to be going through similar trials. I miss our chapel talks. God, I miss her. I miss everything.

[farmandbarn]

Scary to leave

Wednesday, 19 September 2018

Light work today. Two hours at the barn and two hours working in the house. The break is needed. Did ten to twelve hour days all last week, which is a lot for me when it's mostly all physical. It's also my last days on the farm. It's clear to me now that this has been a transitional phase in my life, never meant to be a stopping point. Vitally important but temporary. I'll be going north. To see, to see if, man, ok, to see if we can breathe life into our relationship.

Shoveled some of the last of my dirt today. Anxious to leave at this point-- just want to get on with my life. At least that's how it feels. Though I'll miss the solitude and night walks. I'll miss the small town up the road too. Terry the barber was the reason, the catalyst, for my homecoming attendance. During my haircut, he pushed for me to go. Hometown pride and all. We ran into each other at the game and lamented the home team's performance over nachos.

The downside, however, of a sparsely populated area is that I've watched too many horror movies. I tried to go out to the barn at night, like I've wanted to, but I just couldn't do it. The barn, I mean, it's literally in the middle of a cornfield. Come on. Either a guy in a jumpsuit and hockey mask is going to turn up right behind me or there'll be an alien abduction. It was a terrible mistake to watch Fire in the Sky as a kid.

I don't particularly like going to the basement here. Of course, who does? But I needed to go down there early today. Doubly creepy since I'm all alone tonight. As I descended, there were noises from the far end. I muttered aloud, "Yep. Sounds about right. Obviously there're noises."

It didn't slow me down. I even decided to take some pictures, realizing that I had taken none of the basement.

Above, the first room looking into the second. A third room can be found straight ahead and to the right.

Third room. Not creepy at all. Really hope it was the owner who moved the chair into the room. If not, well, I guess it would have to be the faceless old lady who secretly lives in your home.

[farmandbarn]

Dreaming

Monday, 17 September 2018

The foundation being rebuilt. Each stone has been marked so that it will be the same as it once was. It’s kind of a three-dimensional puzzle with a few pieces missing and others broken and weathered so they don’t fit like they should.

One of the workers, at the end of the day, allowed me to ride on the side of his truck. Just like in Back to the Future but minus the hoverboard. Once I hopped on, I realized I was fulfilling a lifelong dream. A small dream but a dream nonetheless.

Some of my other dreams: -Enter or exit a room to the USA chant. -Be physically threatened by the teachers union. -Befriend a wild wolf in the wild. -Really piss off a large group of people and then relish in it.  -Someone says, "You are what you eat." I reply with, "No, who we are is much more than that." -Someone says something about there being an issue with the roads and I reply: Roads? Where we're going we don't need roads.

Oh, and I'd like my last words to be: The pirate treasure-- it's buried...

I suppose Abraham Lincoln's final words were of laughter, which is pretty good if you think about it. (And if you count laughter as words.)

Now if you look very closely you'll see a happy dog sitting inside this massive collection of metal.

I think the dog is living out his dreams. Being on a farm and all. He also eats very well.

[farmandbarn]

Homecoming

Friday, 14 September 2018

Finally finishing up at the barn. My work of preparing it for the contractors is completed and they'll be there on Monday to rebuild the foundation. I'll still be out there tomorrow and next week but my real work is done.

I've discovered that there's always more to do on a farm.

Though as the summer comes to a close so does my time here. It won't be forgotten and this period has helped me considerably. It may have saved my relationship.

The above is from the local high school's homecoming game, which I attended. It was boring, sure, but I knew that going in. I just wanted the experience, for the memories to return. Kids running about wildly-- falling down, yelling in excitement, and ducking under the bleachers. The high schoolers crammed together in the student section, shouting and moving in unison. Old people there to support their children or simply to root for the old home team.

Made sure to stop by the concession stand to buy an overpriced hamburger and nachos. The food of memory.

Sadly, the home team wasn't good enough. The Cougars got smashed by the Indians. A margin of twenty-something.

I'll end up missing aspects of my life here but I find myself anxious to leave. There are advantages and disadvantages to everything but I see now that I prefer the city. I miss getting cell reception or having a place to eat past 8 pm.