More Dreaming
October 19th 2008 03:42
Kmans gone and done it again.
If you read the related post then you will get what I mean....Im not sure, exactly, if he remembers doing it last time. Perhaps he thinks his idea is all new. But it was about Wednsday he dropped it on me....."K, I found land!"
I gave him the usual - "Baby, Im not workin...You know we cant afford it" Yawn.
He proceeded to outline his spending plan - on his own wage - and how fast it could be paid off. That we would live here for the beginning stages, without me needing to work. And said, breathlessly - "So when you need more room for the horses, you can just move there and wait for us"
I tried to fight it.
I didnt want to be swallowed.
I couldnt help it.
The sound of Kmans voice faded out. I heard the moaning of wind screaming over harsh rocks. I saw grass....Green grass mixed with that high growing plains grass. With utter clarity I saw the hollow on the edge of the hill that made an overhang, where I had woven a mat out of leaves to make an awning. The start of a wall made of clay bricks that I had fired myself....The beginning of a shelter that would fit all the horses under it. I saw the jars I had made to put dried herbs in, and the small herb garden that I picked fresh from every day to season the damper I baked under my little cook fire.
The caravan, with a small generator and solar panels, containing my phone and laptop, looking lopsided and forgotten, as I never go in there. Except to deal with the local saleyards to sell sheep and alpaca.
The sleeping roll next to the fire where I sit and read poetry in the evenings, reading out loud for Najara, Zenith and Niah, who have come with me to live wild.
A bridle made of plaited strips of leather and horse hair - Throwing myself on Shakir bareback to race up to the gate from the camp site.
Some of you out there may scoff at the thought of things like weaving roofing for shelters, or making clay bricks or pots, but let me tell you, dumped in the centre of 100 acres with no modern world, you get bored like you wouldnt believe. The silence presses in on you, the sounds of savage nature push directly at all the things that make you a modern human. Your ears ring from the lack of traffic sounds, mobile phones ringing, and computers clicking. There is a deep sense rising in your blood and in your bones - remember your instincts, human. You are in me now, not in the world you have manufactured. Remember yourself...Or I will swallow you.
If you bend to what is within you, that instinct which has caused us to become top of the food chain, your feet are naturally drawn to the paths that find you water, that warn of disaster. The nervous frenzy within you - which here, penned in by buildings, is merely called 'anxiety' - will push your hands to weave, to sculpt, to roof your shelter and herd your stock, plant your food. Gather emergency supplies and hoard water. To disobey this instinct out there is to die. Its why some people just arent meant to holiday outdoors.
The other morning, snuggling against Kmans chest, he murmured something about his idea. I replied I couldnt wait - I was going to grow my armpit hair long enough to braid it.
He was silent for a moment, thinking. Kman knows I hate shaving - Im the original hippy. He KNOWS me. Like he was talking about an animal, he suddenly exclaimed, "Oh My God Baby. You would go completely fucking feral!"
I replied in apeal of giggles. Correct. I said, "I would make sure I killed a sheep for when you guys come,"
"No wait!" He said, "I would pick up some meat on my way out..."
"No need! I'd have him ready to roast.."
"Baby. Theres no need to be so barbaric, I mean - "
"BARBARIC!!" I lost it completely, "Whats MORE barabaric! The slabs upon slabs of poor animals laid out in the supermarket just so our ridiculous humans can choose this chop, or that chop, or me kissing my sheep on the forehead before I lay him out and use every last piece of him?"
"But a sheep is too much meat -"
"No. Not for all three of us, plus the dogs and cats. Besides, I'd need to kill a few anyway, I need the wool -"
"You dont need to kill it for its wool!"
"No, but I need the hide. To make boots and stuff."
"Baby! I would buy you boots. You would still have power....The laptop...Dvds. You wouldnt have to go that far!"
I was deep in thought. Murmuring, "Mostly though, I'll just need chickens.."
Kmans eyes roll. "Yes baby. Start with killing chickens. I will have to get you some hunting dogs..."
That thought filters through, but I know, I wont need dogs. Not with Zayfir and Zenith and Niah. Im planning.....And Im seeing vision.....And, heres something new I see in it.....
I see myself preparing to leave. Kman asking who's going. I have to take Najara, despite the risks, as no one else can deal with her. I decide on Zenith and Niah because they are part wild. All the horses. And then, in the vision, I say to Kman...."And I will take Drago."
Who the fuck is Drago?
Kman says, "I will look after Morgana then. Will you be right with him?"
"Of course"
So Im cruising on my vision.....My little hut and cave, with its half forgotten caravan. Hunting with the cats. Najara flying free with 20 or so babies, all that follow me and sit on me like she does. Im building coil pots by the fire when I hear a jingle...My alarm! Someone at the gate! Leap onto Shakir's back and gallop up to the gateway. Mum and Kman in the car. Kman calls out "Wheres Drago?"
I turn Shakir to the side. On my back is a papoose - looks like sheepskin - in it is a baby boy. Giggling with the motion of galloping.
Funny. I always thought Id have twins.
If you read the related post then you will get what I mean....Im not sure, exactly, if he remembers doing it last time. Perhaps he thinks his idea is all new. But it was about Wednsday he dropped it on me....."K, I found land!"
I gave him the usual - "Baby, Im not workin...You know we cant afford it" Yawn.
He proceeded to outline his spending plan - on his own wage - and how fast it could be paid off. That we would live here for the beginning stages, without me needing to work. And said, breathlessly - "So when you need more room for the horses, you can just move there and wait for us"
I tried to fight it.
I didnt want to be swallowed.
I couldnt help it.
The sound of Kmans voice faded out. I heard the moaning of wind screaming over harsh rocks. I saw grass....Green grass mixed with that high growing plains grass. With utter clarity I saw the hollow on the edge of the hill that made an overhang, where I had woven a mat out of leaves to make an awning. The start of a wall made of clay bricks that I had fired myself....The beginning of a shelter that would fit all the horses under it. I saw the jars I had made to put dried herbs in, and the small herb garden that I picked fresh from every day to season the damper I baked under my little cook fire.
The caravan, with a small generator and solar panels, containing my phone and laptop, looking lopsided and forgotten, as I never go in there. Except to deal with the local saleyards to sell sheep and alpaca.
The sleeping roll next to the fire where I sit and read poetry in the evenings, reading out loud for Najara, Zenith and Niah, who have come with me to live wild.
A bridle made of plaited strips of leather and horse hair - Throwing myself on Shakir bareback to race up to the gate from the camp site.
Some of you out there may scoff at the thought of things like weaving roofing for shelters, or making clay bricks or pots, but let me tell you, dumped in the centre of 100 acres with no modern world, you get bored like you wouldnt believe. The silence presses in on you, the sounds of savage nature push directly at all the things that make you a modern human. Your ears ring from the lack of traffic sounds, mobile phones ringing, and computers clicking. There is a deep sense rising in your blood and in your bones - remember your instincts, human. You are in me now, not in the world you have manufactured. Remember yourself...Or I will swallow you.
If you bend to what is within you, that instinct which has caused us to become top of the food chain, your feet are naturally drawn to the paths that find you water, that warn of disaster. The nervous frenzy within you - which here, penned in by buildings, is merely called 'anxiety' - will push your hands to weave, to sculpt, to roof your shelter and herd your stock, plant your food. Gather emergency supplies and hoard water. To disobey this instinct out there is to die. Its why some people just arent meant to holiday outdoors.
The other morning, snuggling against Kmans chest, he murmured something about his idea. I replied I couldnt wait - I was going to grow my armpit hair long enough to braid it.
He was silent for a moment, thinking. Kman knows I hate shaving - Im the original hippy. He KNOWS me. Like he was talking about an animal, he suddenly exclaimed, "Oh My God Baby. You would go completely fucking feral!"
I replied in apeal of giggles. Correct. I said, "I would make sure I killed a sheep for when you guys come,"
"No wait!" He said, "I would pick up some meat on my way out..."
"No need! I'd have him ready to roast.."
"Baby. Theres no need to be so barbaric, I mean - "
"BARBARIC!!" I lost it completely, "Whats MORE barabaric! The slabs upon slabs of poor animals laid out in the supermarket just so our ridiculous humans can choose this chop, or that chop, or me kissing my sheep on the forehead before I lay him out and use every last piece of him?"
"But a sheep is too much meat -"
"No. Not for all three of us, plus the dogs and cats. Besides, I'd need to kill a few anyway, I need the wool -"
"You dont need to kill it for its wool!"
"No, but I need the hide. To make boots and stuff."
"Baby! I would buy you boots. You would still have power....The laptop...Dvds. You wouldnt have to go that far!"
I was deep in thought. Murmuring, "Mostly though, I'll just need chickens.."
Kmans eyes roll. "Yes baby. Start with killing chickens. I will have to get you some hunting dogs..."
That thought filters through, but I know, I wont need dogs. Not with Zayfir and Zenith and Niah. Im planning.....And Im seeing vision.....And, heres something new I see in it.....
I see myself preparing to leave. Kman asking who's going. I have to take Najara, despite the risks, as no one else can deal with her. I decide on Zenith and Niah because they are part wild. All the horses. And then, in the vision, I say to Kman...."And I will take Drago."
Who the fuck is Drago?
Kman says, "I will look after Morgana then. Will you be right with him?"
"Of course"
So Im cruising on my vision.....My little hut and cave, with its half forgotten caravan. Hunting with the cats. Najara flying free with 20 or so babies, all that follow me and sit on me like she does. Im building coil pots by the fire when I hear a jingle...My alarm! Someone at the gate! Leap onto Shakir's back and gallop up to the gateway. Mum and Kman in the car. Kman calls out "Wheres Drago?"
I turn Shakir to the side. On my back is a papoose - looks like sheepskin - in it is a baby boy. Giggling with the motion of galloping.
Funny. I always thought Id have twins.
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Comment by Ann 1
Bloganymity
*Sigh* If only there were more feral women in the world.
Comment by Kleonaptra
Kalikapsychosis
Thanks for the visit! My reluctance to shave my under arms specifically comes from being bitten by a white tail spider....I was bitten in the lymph node, so a close shave can cause the rash to return. I also prefer the hair long because it makes my scent stronger - the animals dont know who the hell I am if Im wearing perfume.
Feral women are real women!