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Tuesday, September 14, 2004 |
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Remember long ago, back before I went feral, when 0002614 meant ecstacizing about breezes and leaves and the cries of animals? when you could always come here and find a poem or a pretty picture of a butterfly on a thistle or a white cat standing in the snow? When this blog might offer the occasional pleasure, a sensibility that wanted to soar with the sandhill cranes?
No more of this whining and fretting. Let's remember how to do that again. Allah is merciful. We will drink deep in time. |
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Unstable as water, thou shalt not excel... [Gen. 49:4]  The creek is dry. So is the well. Is it really a well, then, if it empties every time the creek does?  My friend and I spent Sunday beefing up the dam and have managed to get a trickle going  into the ponds to perhaps keep up with evaporation. But nothing remains to come downstream. When I open up the well, there's only air. When I put in clean water to perhaps prime the pump, I get bubbles and more air. Repeatedly. The well has been dry for 24 hours. If I can't find a real home for us soon, we'll be stuck here melting snow for four months before we can get out again. Because the absentee "landlord" is unlikely to drill a new well just to keep me on, regardless of legal recourse. Is this it? Everyone back on the bus? 12:32:55 PM  comment []
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