Sunday, September 30, 2007

"your heart won't heal right if you keep tearing out the sutures"

I want secrets and anonymity.
I embrace my anti-social tendencies.
I stretch myself thin trying to be accommodative.
I take pride in single-hood.
My individualistic independent-ism overwhelms me.
I become selfish, self-centered, and disconnected.
Cellphone is dead.
Introversion abounds.

Saturday, September 29, 2007

"how cold can a heart become before it crumbles or decides to stay numb?"

Elephant Mess number nineteen is finished, and it's a zinger. It's the ten year anniversary. Yes, that's right. Elephant Mess has existed for ten years now. That's ten years of boring you to death with my skull droppings. You would do well to get yourself a copy and continue being unentertained. I wrote lots about being an adult zine writer with little or nothing to show for my life. I also wrote about reckless abandonment and skeletons in my closet. There's more, but I don't want to ruin the surprise. Here's what you should do. Find a dollar or three first class stamps. Put it or them in an envelope (or you could send me a trade of some sort - that's bartering). Mail that envelope to:
Dan Murphy
PO Box 3154
Moscow ID 83843


"Because I can't stand feeling nothing
I can't stand feeling old.
I can't stand standing for nothing
When standing up is all I know."

Sunday, September 16, 2007

"call in sorrow your friend, ask her where has she been"

Field of Dreams
Originally uploaded by juniperbug
Last week the Soil Stewards had our very first Farm Field Day. It was a smashing success. More people showed up than I had expected, and everyone seemed to enjoy being at the farm. It felt good to think that all of our hard work is paying off, and that people are interested in what we are doing. More and more people are seeing the need to be connected to their food and to be involved in their community and local economy. The Soil Stewards hope to make this an annual event. There is so much more work to do at the farm. This is really just the beginning, but it's the start of something great. I'm excited to be part of this growing movement.

and now, just because it's in my head:
"be disappointed and glum
beat yourself like a drum
yell out, 'who stole my silent night?!'"
-The Microphones

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

"loyal to no one, no one at all"

Long, long ago when I first started this blog I decided to play a little guessing game. I said that I would give a prize to the first person who correctly told me me where the title of my blog comes from. No one even made a guess until around 2 and a half years later when Maaike (upon reading over some old entries) came upon that post and answered correctly. The title comes from the song "Cinder and Smoke" by Iron & Wine. I told her I would give her a prize even though I had never originally decided what the prize would be, and quite frankly I had forgotten all about the whole thing anyway. Well, several months have passed and I still haven't given her a prize for winning. Again, I had forgotten until she reminded me recently. Where is my memory going? Where is Maaike's prize? I still don't know what it's going to be. Anyway, don't worry Maaike, you will get a prize soon...I promise. That is, if I don't forget again.

Saturday, September 08, 2007

"you had me worried that this would last"

Sufferin' succotash! The first hard frost is looming. Goodbye frost sensitive plants. Goodbye days of summer. Autumn is here to snuff you out.
Last night a light frost hit the farm and afflicted frost damage on the outermost leaves of some of our basil and squash plants. Today we scrambled to cover things up. But we could not cover up everything. We are poor and don't have all the materials needed to protect all the plants that we'd like to protect. We do what we can, and we just have to hope that a hard frost is still in the far distant future. We haven't yet had our fill of tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, beans, eggplants and squash. Yet, all of our hard work will eventually succumb to old man winter. I can accept the natural way of things, but I can't deny that it leaves me just a little bit heartbroken. There is always next year, but next year seems so far away. A Fine Frenzy was right: almost lovers always bring heartache.

I will leave you with this:
"A kitten on fire
A baby in a blender
Both sound as sweet
As a night of surrender"
-My Morning Jacket