I really dislike paying bills. While this certainly isn't a unique sentiment, it's not so much about the payment part. For the items I can't automatically debit, I loathe having to:
1. Locate a checkbook.
2. Write out a check.
3. Find an envelope.
4. Address the envelope (with a hand now cramping because it's unused to using a pen)
5. Search vainly for a stamp.
6. Resort to borrowing a stamp from a co-worker.
7. Walk to the mailbox just after the postal carrier has come for the day.
Today, #4 really got to me...again. I don't really mind penning the recipient's name and address. It's having to write MY name and address that's so frustrating. WHY haven't I gone to Zazzle or one of another billion sites and created self-adhesive return postage labels?
Just moments ago, I vowed to do it. Right now! And then stopped. Because I can't. We're moving.
For the TWELVE years we've lived at this address, I've doggedly written my address over and over and over again on envelopes.
What, you might ask, has this to do with the "farmer wannabee" theme of this blog?
First, I never promised I wouldn't post anything unrelated to our quest for wildness.
That aside, I wonder if I have something to think about, regarding inertia. Have I been sitting behind this computer too long? Is "wannabee" as close as we're gonna get?
Today is my 48th birthday. I don't think things will have changed at my 49th. And that seems more intolerable right now than having to write my return address on yet another envelope.
Farmer Hub is reading a book authored by Sepp Holzer - I don't recall which - and last week showed me a picture that made me melt. It was of a Highland cow and a European variety of miniature cow, peeking out from behind the trees. Oh, the unbearable cuteness!
And just yesterday, I visited the Agarita Creek Farms Web site. It's a "working experiment in self-sufficient and sustainable family farming" (their words, not mine.) And they are raising a terrific heritage breed of cattle: the Dexter. They are small, and (at least some of them) short-legged, and just, well...cute.
A pattern is beginning to emerge. I want a farm that is "cute." The kind of place where animal "stuff" is neatly bagged in sanitary, multi-colored bags. (That's what we do now.)
I imagine a slice of land that is manicured and filled with adorably long-lashed livestock and frisky companion animals with coordinating collars. And butterflies, and rainbows, and unicorns, and...
And there's a problem. Two, actually:
1. Farmer Hub isn't into cute. He's into efficient and expedient. And he's not particularly tidy. I'm not judging. He just doesn't see the need.
2. Animals that are cute are gonna be hard to slaughter.