The simple life

So, remember the "back to the land" movement? Well, I always sort of got a kick out of that phrase, cause I never left it myself. Folks wanted a "simpler" life. Get out of the rat race and the system and all. Be your own boss and answer to no one, right?
Well, I'd like to know what is so simple about it??? Ya work your arss off 7 days a week from the time ya get up until ya drop from exaustion. Gardening, canning, digging, hauling, building, fixing, milking the cow, chasing the goats, feeding the pig, fixing the fence and tracking down the horses that got out, being attacked by the rooster... Your hands bleed, ya go to bed dirty cause yer too exausted to even take yer clothes off... All that just to eat and maybe have enough gas money to go to the store for the things ya can't grow yer self, and if yer REAL lucky, enough money to keep the bills paid.

Bitch, bitch, bitch. Actually, I HAVE spent quite a bit of time living without ANYTHING that causes bills, but then its even LESS simple!

We tried various different living arrangements on the farm/commune back in the early 70s. The one that ended up working the best for me was the one where I moved into the barn with the animals, and left the rest of the gang to bicker amongst themselves about how to make the garden beds, or how to slice the cucumbers for the salad tonight...
Sometimes I think that hippys might actually be some of the HARDEST people to share a house with! Everybodys got such STRONG feelings on how things should run, and everybody would get so picky about how to do things that they would sometimes not be able to do the thing at all, for the disagreement about it, and the fact that nobody wanted to be a boss or the bad guy, 'cause after all, hippys don't act like that(?)...

AH, the simple life.
Your experiences?

 

Well.. When I left Frisco in the early 70's and joined a commune in Colorado, things were pretty crazy. Anyone ever decided to slack-about, their ass was chewed all over. Good times, good times.

 

ahhhhhhh earthmama,,, i hear every word of that,,,, my simple life letter to a friend the other day went something like this... the simple farmlife,, ahhhhhhhh! the animals are escaping everywhere ...i got goats with chickens chickens in with the goats, the goats in the yard with the chickens n noone is quite where they belong...The seed are sprouting in the greenhouse, new stuff arrivng daily tiller dun died n aint got the money for a new one,,, shovel n couple hands will have to do the garden but the weather n work dictate that,,, but no the greenhouse n seedlings do as well... anything that has had the notion to up n die in the last four years died three weeks ago(granny), things that shouldnt be breakin have done (car truck water heater)so and things that shoulda broke 5 years ago have(waterlines n spiggots---> empty cystern) and everything else is just waiting for the most inopportune time to go ahead n do so...Babble-on work is slow (hhb broke in half or feels like he did) n slow there means slow here,,,






aint the simple life grand!!!
so much better than the city, wouldnt change it for the world...

on another note since i wrote that the only thing left not fixxed is the tiller,,, and it wont be fixxed,,,, the car,,, i just dont care bout that,,,, and the hose bibb which i am doin today.... wonder whats next...

 

Yeah, living in the country isn't exactly simple. Just getting in free firewood to last the winter is neither "free" (gotta buy gas, oil, files and new bar-chains), not to speak of up-keep on the tractor. Animals must be fed. Pickled foods need vinegar. Frozen dead animals need a freezer and electricity. Even home-made wine needs sugar and yeast.


It ain't easy to be a red-neck.

BUT, IT'S FUN!

 

Tis funny.... I remember all that too. I lived on several communes in the 70's. Some of them I did very hard work and others I did very little work. It depended on the rest of the family. By far the easiest and most fun one was outside Grants Pass, Oregon. There were seven women and twelve guys. The owner of the farm was Master John Stanley,aka, Levi. He was well off and had paid servants and ranchers to do all the work. We mostly partied and dealt. I was his "queen" for two years and my job was "tester". OMG what a trip that was. I ran awy when he decided to bring another "wife" in to our bed. Dumb me. I should have stayed....

**** AFTERTHOUGHT ****
TO BE SURE I AM GLAD I DID NOT STAY. I WOULD HAVE MISSED OUT ON MANY A GOOD, *REAL* THING IN LIFE.

 

yeh its all familiar to me ..one time i caught my pigs trappin my chickens,they would leave some grain in the trough and hide around the corner then when a bunch of chickens were happily munching away they would rush them we lost 200 that year but it wasnt all the pigs..they was a family of fat foxes in are neibourhood that year too.i had 15 yrs on the farm & 4 more years on 30 acres of bush living in a trailer now im stuck in town &boy i miss that life even with all its hardship

 

well i moved back to the country from the big city in 79 ..........i live on the outskirts of a small town ...bushpunk knows the area .while i did not build a commune here i did go back to the land ..it wasn't always easy but then again it wasn't sheer hell either ,some good years and some bad ..equipment breaking down but what else is new ..i just wait for warmer weather to fix it all up .......firewood is work but well worth it in the winter with the price of fuel oil or electricity ...when asked if i would do it differently now the answer is NO

 

Tuatara-- You are goddamned right! Getting in the firewood is work, but GOOD work! Hard work is good exercise and what better way to spend a day in the life than up in the woods sawing trees and drinking beer? When January comes and I have 4 cords split and stacked, smoke pouring out the stone chimney (which I built), the house warm as a pussycat's belly, and a freezer full of deer meat and peppers and trout, what more can one ask?


Huh? Well, she'll be back-- she just went to Texas for awhile.

When I die, if I have to, I want to die in my work clothes, boots on my feet, a chainsaw in my hand, up in the shady woods getting in firewood-- just have a heart-attack and keel over. (Then, you'll miss me Teepi, Sloth and ShamelessCow!)

You may divide the beer remaining in my cooler, loves.

 

I've lived on the farm so long I don't think I could be happy living in the city. Too much smog and too many damned people, runnin' 'round like crazy ants.

Life is lived at a much slower pace in the country. I was raised a city gal the first half of my life, the second half of my life has been on this farm..It was easier in the city, not as much work to do. One can just pick up what ya need from a store (one on every corner). Here we gotta either grow it and can it ourselves or drive ten miles into town to get it.
As much as gas is and rising we are thinking of getting a covered wagon and a team of mules to get us to town and back and fuck a bunch of Iranian gas and oil muther fuckers.
I'm looking forward to driving a team of mules, I think it would be so cool if everyone started ridin' horses again and gave them gas whores a run fer their money.
I have a little burro but have only rode him twice, I'm the omly one he will let mount him. I think I'm more the buggy type now, them donkeys ride a little rough..lol.
I would like to keep the tractor though bc my Lynn has worn his bones out working in them damn Oil Fields for 27 yrs. and I think trying to plow with a mule would do more damage to his arms and back.

As I sit here looking out my office (home) window. I can see the meadow across the road with the cows grazing, and the family of squirrels that play gingerly with them.
I see the Red Red Cardinals that splash in the bird bath that is nestled between the Daylillies and Artimesia in my front yard, taking turns with an ocassional Blue Jay that may want a refreshing bath after a good worm hunt.
I see the Morning Dew freshly laid on the new blades of Saint Augestine grass I planted last week, sparkling like diamonds in the rising Sun's golden rays, as the Guienies peck their way over the land searching for a nice fat juicy bug to devour.
I never experienced these feeling or sights in the City. I never felt part of the sceam of things in the city.

Altho we own it, the Farm does not belong to us, we belong to it. We cater to it, we care for it and it owns us, body, mind, and soul. Altho we are no slave to it, we bow to it's Majesty. We give our blood, sweat and tears to it as we cultivate it and plant it with seed that will feed us in the cold winter months. Our work, and sweat are rewarded as the first seedlings pop up through the tilled soil and reach for the sun. The promise of a good harvest to come in the fall. We look at each other as we work together in the garden, we smile threw the sweat running into our eyes and leaving dirt trails down our happy faces. We talk of how good the Sweet Corn will taste with the fat Hog in the freezer and how yummy peaches will taste in the Cobbler that we will have for dessert. I watch as the grapes start sprouting their new leaves and knowing we will have fine wine to drink with our friends and family as we feast on the bounty the earth has given to us. We say a prayer of thanks and hug eachother over our work well done.
Blessed Be
sh

 

Well said, Shameless! Ah.. you're just a tender-hearted poetess!

 

shhhh.. now Thudly, I didn't want everyone to know .. now my secret is out.
I am a published Poet~) My poems regiestered at the Library of Congress, somewhere.. maybe 5 or 6 of them, maybe more.. I forget.

 

Well, good luck Cow-in-shame : I actually have a Library in Congress #, but I can't access it. It is 2001119297. I don't know how to go about it, but I'd love to know a copy of my novel is forever preserved and that I'LL NEVER DIE!

A dubious immortality, eh, not?

Publish your poems here, Mad-Heifer.Allow us to judge.

 

I have a few of my poems posted somewhere n the forums, it's been a while since I have been possessed by the writer's ghost. I guess I have been too busy to notice. I haven't even worked on my book in ages. I may be in a slump or maybe, yes, that's it.. I have just been too busy to be inspired.
Things around the forums sure haven't been very inspiring lately so I took a fishing trip. We just blew in from the lake and I do mean blew in. The wind raged the whole four days we were there. It was blowing at about 60mile gusts and a steady 30mph day and night. We did manage to bag over 150 lbs of catfish reguardless of the windy conditions tho.. There was a few times the wind would pick up a small tent and tumble it across the campsite and the kids all had to run and capture it before it hit the lake. We did have one episode where The Chaple (our 10X20 inclosure) went flyin' like a humungouse kite across the campsite, tumblin' and rollin' like a toy. And this thing is metal not pvc. It took four of us to hold it down and get it back in place.
All went well and everyone enjoyed themselves.. I did slip into Ninja Granny mode for a few minutes, but it was like lightening and was over fast before it got crazy.. but that's a whole other story heh heh

sh

 

Windy conditions suck-- I'd prefer a steady rain. What did you do with all those catfish? Smoke them ? Freeze them? Give them to Teepi in exchange for one of her paintings? Mail them to Diligaff for the entree at their Easter blow-out? Let them get ripe in the Texas sun and entice my herd of cats south for the duration? I WISH!

 

We ate the first batch, about 55lbs on saturday night, the Ester morning we bagged about 7 more weighing out to about 20 to 22 lbs a piece, which to answer your question, is tucked nicely away in the freezer till the next gathering. We catch the fish together and we eat it together.
I never smoked a catfish, what kind of high would that bring.. would you smoke it in a water bong...lolol..

 

Come on, you rebel Jezabell! Smoked in a 55 gallon drum with apple smoke. (Or, down your way, with mesquite smoke.)


Or, road-killed armadillos.

 

Ha! we don't eat road kill.. we taxiderm it and hang it on da wall. silly yankeys.. Naw.. we just meal it and fry it up and gobble it down, yum yum, with fried taters, cole slaw and hushpuppies.
There were 36 adults and about 12 or 15 kids(they move so fast ya can't count 'em) some camped some went home and came back the next day. We had two boats and 175 hooks on four trot lines, we fished for shad and little perch to use for bait.

I got DRUNK on shots of Jose and finished off a pint. There was a little scuffle and I had to jump into Ninja mode and subdew a huge dude that was beating up Chris and leaped onto his back and got him innna choke hold like a fricken sumo wrestler and this dude was 6'2 and 260. It was a dumb move on my part bc of the size difference and I should realize that I am an OLD Warroir and my sword and shield NEED to be retired permenatly. Of course I was never in danger bc I had like 15 dudes backing me, I never thought of them untill it was all over and done with. There was no blood drawn and no hard feelings were held by anyone. Some people just can't hold their licker.. me I hold mine by the ears...HA!!

 

FUCKING YO! Jesus! You rebel wimmin must be nuts! (My ex-bed mate, Dolores, is living 10 miles north of Houston, for what it's worth. Maybe she'll come back with a live armadillo-- I'll breed it with a possum ande have an unique animal to throw at bartenders that flag me.)


Where was I?

Yes.

My God, dear, I hope you're not into female domination! You sound as if you're a tough cookie already! I wouldn't want to see you in spike heels with a whip! (Or, maybe I would.)

JUST KIDDING!

(Don't hit me mistress!)

 

Well Thud my man.. I am no dom.. but I have been known to kick a few butts in my time.I raised 6 boys, two girls. Them boys were a handfull the girls were much easier. Of course there were more boys and they brought their Friends!!!! We hada build a room on the back of the house just fer the over flow. Some even stayed in the (converted) barn. Of course the barn is not so bad with a big screen TV, woodburning stove, icebox, cookstove, sink with running water, kingsize bed in the loft with a dining table downstairs and a poker table in the loft also. We havn't got the potty in yet but the house ain't that far iffin ya gotta go.
The barn has been used for everyones storage for 16 yrs and after a yr and ya don't get yer stuff out we keep it and divvie it out to ones that may need whatever.. we call it the Majick Barn, bc when someone does really need something they can usually find it in the barn. It's famous around here..
I don't wear spike heels, they are a stupiud mans invention to plauge women and give back problems. I do however wear BOOTS when I need to..

 

Drunk again.