Thursday, June 2, 2011

i can't remember where i put my keys. how am i expected to keep a daily journal?

It's raining today. In fact, severe storm warnings have been issued for the entire Jefferson County.  To the south of us, tornado warnings.  This is my kind of weather.  And they said nothing ever happens out here.


I was just out in the harvest shed making pans out of aluminum foil so I may properly water my seedlings growing in their flats. For those of you who think this sounds quaint, you really need to get your collective heads out of your collective asses. It would be better if I were able to purchase shallow aluminum pans.  In this place of Paradise, suggestions such as aluminum pans are not welcome.  Just one of many disappoints of my internship.


The other intern and I took a trip to the city on our day off, and successfully whipped each other into a frenzy on how the farmer's wife is thoroughly blowing our bliss as budding farmer and cheese person...should we stay, or should we go?  Sigh.


Before drifting off to sleep last night, and in the light of day, we both came to the same conclusion - stay.  We've also committed ourselves to one another to get us through the difficult moments.  "What would be a difficult moment?" you might ask.  Well, yesterday morning I made her cry.  I told her that it was really difficult to share ideas with her and then she began to cry.  Any suggestion you make, she likes to emphatically shut you down.  Through her fake tears she told me how we (the underpaid interns) are not offering her enough credit and validation for all of the work she does.  Sigh.


Now, those of you who really know me will not be surprised to hear that my sympathy meter barely budged.  And then came the "You've got to be fucking kidding me" expression on my face that didn't help matters any.


So, I ask myself, "Where is my responsibility in future interactions?  If I'm going to make this work, how do I need to change?"  I don't like the answer, mostly because none of the answers involved digging in my heels and standing my ground.  Grrrr!


Other than living with crazy, I love what I'm doing.  I love getting my overalls dirty, my muck boots and shoes mucky and getting love from tiny goats with tiny feet, eyes and mouths that nibble at your pants, hair and fingers.  When I go to visit the city, coming back is always a spiritual moment.  I see my first barn sitting atop a rolling hill and, crazy not withstanding, all is right with the world - all is as it should be. 







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