Much time has passed since this blog was started. Animals have come and gone. A small hors died in our arms. We have learned to grow vegetables. We have planted a vineyard. Life gets away from us too much of the time. Work keeps us too busy. But we still try.
July on the farm: it is very dry this summer, and the grass is quite parched. The hay grows too slowly. But the mosquitoes are less numerous.
The zucchini have gone from flower to being ... well zucchini! Take your eye off for a minute and they have doubled in size. Appetizers, main courses, and dessert tend to involve zucchini right now.
I am reading Vaclav Havel's To the Castle and Back. It is strangely mesmerizing in its "order." I still do not know what it is about this man's "voice" that is so haunting. Also reading the new Mussar Book by Alan Morinis called Everyday Holiness. Or trying to.
In truth, there is little time for reading. Mostly, it's work and weeding, and more weeding. And feeding the horses. And more weeding. And more work. And walking the dog (she would be unhappy at being left off the list). But it is fine. Time seems a little suspended on hot summer days. The 200 emails per day go down to about 100. I am quiet in my heart too. But a little rain would be nice.
Where is Etty Hillesum in this? It may be left to others to decide. Maybe not here at all, maybe too absorbed into our existence in this place to stand out.
July on the farm: it is very dry this summer, and the grass is quite parched. The hay grows too slowly. But the mosquitoes are less numerous.
The zucchini have gone from flower to being ... well zucchini! Take your eye off for a minute and they have doubled in size. Appetizers, main courses, and dessert tend to involve zucchini right now.
I am reading Vaclav Havel's To the Castle and Back. It is strangely mesmerizing in its "order." I still do not know what it is about this man's "voice" that is so haunting. Also reading the new Mussar Book by Alan Morinis called Everyday Holiness. Or trying to.
In truth, there is little time for reading. Mostly, it's work and weeding, and more weeding. And feeding the horses. And more weeding. And more work. And walking the dog (she would be unhappy at being left off the list). But it is fine. Time seems a little suspended on hot summer days. The 200 emails per day go down to about 100. I am quiet in my heart too. But a little rain would be nice.
Where is Etty Hillesum in this? It may be left to others to decide. Maybe not here at all, maybe too absorbed into our existence in this place to stand out.
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