Wednesday, November 6, 2013

The Beat Goes On

I'm just back into the house from letting the chickens out for the day.  Every morning I take out whatever kitchen scraps I have and dump them out in a line next to the coop then open the door and they are off like a shot.    As I left the coop, I had to give a thought to the next upgrade.  While my little 4ft. x 4ft. coop meets their needs, I'd like something a bit bigger so they don't get too cranky when I'm late getting out there.  Typically I'm late only when Mac is in the hospital.

That made my mind go elsewhere.  My oldest daughter thinks the blog should turn into a bit of a how to blog.  She is probably right, but I don't want to forget where it came from.  The origin was about surviving cancer when you're not the one that has the disease.  When you're the one standing there and watching.  When you're the one handing out pills, setting up home IVs, dealing with vomit and nausea, pain, anger and seeing all of the support for the patient, and feeling your life being totally eaten away. Being alone and there is no one there to pat your hand and say "there, there."  Feeling yourself being turned into a none human service commodity and then having others ask you what do you have to complain about anyway?

If I were a celebrity, I suppose I could start an organization that would support families of cancer victims.  We would wear matching shirts and have 5K runs and everybody would win.  But I'm not a celebrity so I will just sit here and wait for you to find me.  Then I will tell you to rage!  RAGE!  Then start doing something.  I started building a house.  I started building fence.  I got some chickens and watched them go from fluff to going into that good night, which was followed by my freezer.  I have bound my life up with a little chestnut pony and a blond haflinger and a very old dog.

There is a video out there somewhere on youtube of my favorite author, Neil Gaiman, giving a talk.  His advice in the video is to make "good art"  If life is good to you the response is to "make good art"  When things have been bad the response is to "make good art".  The process of making good art is the process of human conditions.  My place, my dream, is my canvas and I hope that with it, I am making "good art".  It fills my heart when nothing else could.  So if we move on, and I have handy hints and tips on using vinegar, I don't ever want to forget that first and foremost, you need to find the way to fill your own heart.  Find a way to go out there and make your own good art.

Today the wind is raw and out of the north, but it's not too cold.  I have to pull some tee posts and take down some wire.  It is a process.  I'll be out there in the wind, trying to make my own "good art".


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