baby steps
September 24, 2011, 1:41 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

In an act of what may prove to be mid-life nut case-ness, I have moved myself and my 11 year old daughter from the city of Richmond to a kooky log house on a one-hundred acre horse farm near Charlottesville, VA.  The purpose of this blog is to practice writing creative non-fiction and to share the nuances of changing lifestyles and learning to focus on simpler things in life.  It may ultimately prove to be not only a story of adjustment but most likely a story of basic survival – I have just made a leap of faith in my career (from a person with a salary to a freelance writer), struggle with the ending of a rather intense romantic relationship, navigate the challenges of single parenthood of a middle-school aged girl without an established support system and learn to manage a wood stove as a main source of heat in a hole filled house.

I promise to be a sporadic blogger (that will keep you coming back,right?) and will write about what is relevant at the time.  I am terrible at spelling but at times have a sharp wit and will want suggestions on how to do things from time to time like how to build a fire in an antique pot bellied wood stove, the best way to get rid of sugar ants and a cure for chiggers.

Because I am just writing whatever pops into my head in those ten minutes there may be some strange structure and tangents.  Just look for the nuggets in each one.  You can also offer prompts or ask me to expand on a nice sentence of phrase as a writing challenge.

so here goes the first one…give me a sec to set my iphone timer for 10 mins…

MJ and I were supposed to go riding this morning.  She may not come, she told me, due to a Pink ribbon tennis tournament she is supposed to play in.  MJ is one of the daughters of the people that own this strange farm. There are no chickens, no composting, nothing that makes money or contributes to the sustainability of the land.  Even the hay bails that someone was hired to make were all moved to the wooded edges of the fields to rot. The only thing that is grown here is grass for the horses, some ornamental flowers and two tomato vinesIt is supposed to be a horse farm and at one time I understand it was, housing 20 thoroughbreds.  That was before P and B took over back in the 70’s.  P and B are my landlords.  They are a bit quirky but nice people.  Republican farmers.  Nothing makes sense on this farm.  There are five horses currently.  All thoroughbreds, each worth major bucks and they are hardly ridden.  There is an outdoor ring all set with jumps and supposedly there were trails set up all over the farm for training for hunter/jumper events and fox hunting.  There are remnants of horse jumps all over the land.  The horses are all fat from grazing all summer and lack of exercise.  There is also a burrow named Jack (short for Jack Ass, a recent visitor guessed- I totally missed that one until she mentioned it). Jack is allowed to roam freely all over the farm so when one comes down the gravel drive they must be careful to look for him.  He is old and eats so much that his belly looks distended  like those sad photos of little starving children in Africa.  Other animals that inhabit the farm are: Max the grey cat, loads of fence hopping deer, foxes, some biggish brown thing that scooted out from the bushes the other day and ran down the hill behind the house before I could identify it, several mice that have taken up residence in my kitchen and the kitchen in the main house and who knows what else.  Must go look to see if MJ is here or if the tennis match is on.  She was unsure because of the wet conditions.  I would like to ride though.  It will be the first time since I have been here.  Five crazy weeks today.


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