Hear that Lonesome Whistle Blow…

Well, it’s New Year’s Day and we have had snow on the ground since Christmas Eve.   That makes things pretty and messy at the same time.  I’ll concentrate on the pretty and try to ignore the messy (words to live by!)

There’s a train that runs through Mount Airy, a couple miles from our farm.  I can hear the whistle, very faintly, in the house.  Sometimes at night, I hear that whistle and I’m glad to be here in my own nest, still and safe, with my alpacas snug in their barns and my husband in the house with me.

I know some people hear the same whistle and are filled with the desire to move along, to see new places, to do new things.  And that’s wonderful for them!  But it doesn’t resonate with me.  When I hear the train whistle or hear a plane fly overhead, I – kinda – feel sorry for the travelers therein.  You see, I’ve always felt that there are “roots” people and “wings” people.  God bless those broad-minded, adventurous wings people!  I love to hear their stories and I even ask to see their vacation pictures.  But I am a roots person.  I’m happiest at my place with my people and my animals.  That is the temperament I have been given, so I’ll curl up inside it and enjoy my small world.

Apropos of this, I’ve had people refer to my farming experience as my “journey.”  Again, God bless ‘em, but I don’t really see it that way.  This is not my journey but my life.  I am not between two points; I am neither moving on from something nor moving toward something.  I am here right now, and here I live and work.  Sure, I have goals and plans, but I expect them to happen to me within this place and according to these seasons.  It’s more of a circular movement than a linear one.  That’s not boring to me – it’s comforting.

Are you setting your roots or using your wings?

Here’s an update on the Snake Story:

A couple weeks ago, I was taking my sweaters and accoutrements on the road for the good folks at DAI in Alexandria, VA to do some Christmas shopping during their holiday party.  Unbeknownst to me, Sheri Dougherty and Tara Close of DAI had read my blog post about my run-in with Mr. Snake.  As I was unpacking my wares, in an Alexandria glass-tower office building, imagine my surprise as two black snakes flew through the air and landed in my suitcase!  First I screamed – then I LOL’d.  I am now the proud owner of a little rubber snake, courtesy of Sheri and Tara (my Dad took the other one.)  He’s currently curled around the trunk of my Christmas tree (the snake, not my Dad.)   You can see a picture of my new buddy below.  Thanks, Sheri and Tara!  I promise to give him a good home!

The Deadly Rubber Snake

RUBBER snakes I can handle!

 

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