Renting

I think I will post more than once every six months; let's see how I do.



I can't remember now does this thing date stamp? I will know soon enough. So, we sold the house, the animals and the work that went with it. Now we're renting. Glad to be free from that dream. My idea of dream apparently differs from other people that I know. I've heard it often: "I thought that farm was your dream." It was. I did that and now I don't. I wanted that and now I don't. I'm guessing most people have one dream? How boring is that? For me, that would be boring, so I'm going to stick with my own ideas, and for the record, as long as my ideas and my dreams don't affect you, keep your definition to yourself. That sounds kind of blunt, but I'm really just making a point.



It seems that we gather friends, even within our own families, who bond with us when their ideas are like our own. Most people don't want a friend with opposing thoughts. I can see the extremes of this not being logical: an environmentalist and a neighbor who piles old tires in his front yard. It would be naive to think they are going to meet for lunch on a regular basis. So given this much information, I think people want others to be like them so they can stay in their comfort zone.



Comfort zones are nice, warm places that we all like to hang out in, but seriously doesn't anyone ever want to just jump across the line into the blazing sun and sweat? Don't you want to know what someone else might think about say, baked yams without marshmallows? It's a challenge, but it doesn't have to be scary or life-threatening. I say risk it. Get to know people and imagine the possibility of changing your own idea of what you believe in. It's only information, an option. Respect at the very least that if we are not different, we are bored. Imagine that. I'm off to jump into the warm, succulent sun. Wait. I'm still in Iowa.

cynthia's first time

It's late here in Iowa. Husband's in shower, kids on computers; world's shutting down. Should be 50ish tomorrow - Thank God. 50 is my new freakin heat wave.

As my husband mumbled this morning about being tired, I asked him whether he would prefer feeding animals and raking 10 acres the next year or pack a cooler and launch the sailboat on weekends. He never answered, but he did get out of bed. I love my husband.

My kids were all happy today, we took a load of junk to the dump and the girls fed the chickens and gathered eggs. Dillon worked on his car some and another motor he hopes to make into a go-cart. Always on a project. He gets that from me. I love my kids.

Dallas is moving to Phoenix. I'm glad he's moving forward; I miss him. He says he will come in May for his brother's graduation - I hope he keeps his word. I love Dallas.

Well, I'm crashing dear, public diary. This is weird.