Scramble ramble
September 5th 2008 03:39
The weather is magnificent.
After feeding the ponies this morning I went back to bed. Thats something Ive done before, but I always have to get up again. Spirit is usually locked in his little yard and the other horses, once finished their breakfasts, all want to get out. We've had a slight restructure - musical horseys? - after Magnus bashed a hole in the side of the house, so there was no need to get up again today. I took off my clothes, put the heater on, and crawled back into bed.
I always used to love the sound of the rain. Thats something of me that has never changed. Its thrilling and yet comforting, relaxing at the same time. It just fills me with peace, whether its dripping and drumming or pouring and thrashing. Oh, the ecstasy.....Of laying warm and cuddled in bed under that lovely sound......I truly, utterly feel sorry for all of you who had to go to work today. Dont worry, I'll be back on the grind punishing myself again soon enough.
But for now, life's about as perfect as it gets. My bills are paid out for the next month, the house is pretty clean, animals are happy...Well, the horses are acting like spoiled kids who cant go out to play, but other than that they're happy....And lots of wood is cut and ready to go.
Ive been working on the wood since last week. Ive been trying to relieve the pressure on mum and Kman, since Im home. You know, kitchen, bathroom, all that. I argued with Kman over the wood - he can cut a lot more than I can - but in the end I just made up my mind and did it. Last week I cut quite a good pile but it burned very quickly. So, I set out to cut a MASSIVE pile, I knew the rain was coming. Its no fun chopping wood in the rain. So yesterday I made my move.
Ladies, if you do not know how to use an axe then dont you dare say you're a feminist! An axe is a mastery of a weapon - I wouldnt ever want to get in a fight without one. Ours is fairly cheap, black blade, hickory handle, but the handle is slender, like it was made for a womans hands. Its slick and smooth, and doesnt give you splinters or blisters. After some haphazard smacking (which I went through last year) you soon learn how to cut. Likewise, after some really hard bits of wood cause your arms to spring back up painfully (without ever scarring the offensive wood) you learn you dont need to put wonder woman power behind every hit. Let the axe do the work. Yesterday I was cutting branches roughly as thick as a thigh - which is tough work. The rythym is magical. Raise....Drop - SMACK! Use the bounce, use the momentum, to bring the axe smoothly up, right hand slides up the shaft like on a lovers skin......As momentum drags the blade back down right hand slides toward the end....Until SNAG you check the momentum just in time to smack. As you go, you can feel you're getting closer, and closer......Until you hear a particular crack. The log hasnt split yet, but that crack signals the end of the fight. Theres an odd sag to the way the log sits there, on the bricks, even though its still in one piece. Nows the time for the wonder woman hit. Same motion....Slide hands.....As you get to the snag point, all your weight, all your power, goes into the very end of the blade and SMACK! The log cracks in two. If your really strong...(Like me!) The two ends may fly up from the force. Once, I surprised myself by how quick my reflexes are. An end flew up towards my face and I whipped the axe handle up to block it. Even Kman was shocked by my speed. Maybe Id do ok in a fight after all eh?
I cant explain the feel of power it gives me. And knowing I can handle the weapon so well, applied to my technical fighting knowledge, it just gives me ideas. Man, Id be unstoppable in a fight. An axe can hook a sword or other weapon out of an opponants hands, it can defend, like a fighting staff, it can stun and disable with its blunt edge, and it can kill. Its a fully flexible weapon.
Can you tell....I love my axe?
Ok, heres one thats going to knock you right over.
Kleo has been thinking about going back to church.
YEAH! Fuck! Like, whats THAT about?
Well, its just an urge, really. A HELL of a lot safer than other urges I happen to have. But for about a year now, if I pass a catholic church, I just get this impulse to go in. Ive started to think wistfully about the idea of mass, communion.....Just kneeling there for a good hour or more in the quiet dark and praying. I even ripped out my old rosary beads. And yeah....Lets face it. Confession. "Bless me Father for I have sinned....(and sinned and sinned and sinned) It has been at least 20 years since my last confession...."
Wow. Is that ever scary. 20 years. The first time I ever said those words - I was in year 2 - I believed it would only ever be a week between confessions. I had heard it, in movies you know - "20 years since my last confession" and I actually thought, those poor souls! Why wait 20 years for Gods Grace? How hard is it to just go to church and pray, confess?
I guess, very hard. Churches have given me headaches for years.
Upon examination of this urge, Ive realized, that I dont quite realize how I became this person. Oh, she's exactly what I wanted to be, hoped to be, and strove to be, but there were things about being this person I hadnt heard. Lets look at it in perspective....
When I went into public high school from a catholic primary school, I always had my top blouse button done up. My shoes were always clean and neat. My books were organised, I always did my homework, I never talked back. I was always early, never late, and didnt know what snooze was supposed to be used for.
Well. After some serious teasing (and beating) the other kids got me right out of that nonsense. Soon I was wearing blouses I could unbutton right down to show my scandalous lacy black bra. Turning up my skirt to make it shorter. Arriving late because everyone else did. Jigging class to smoke. Only doing the homework I actually wanted to do.
It actually didnt hurt me, I'd like to believe. My school marks were great. I took it as permission to be loose, wild and free.
But now.....I guess, I can only say that it boils down to this......There was comfort there in the church, but I forgot you actually have to look for it. You have to put it there. I was expecting the church to woo me back to it - why should it? Its only there if I want it, need it, and despite thinking the bastard might burn down if I try and set foot in it, Im thinking very romantically about......Confession. "Bless me Father for I have sinned..." And I know theres a good chance my penance will be a rosary or similar - so I could complete my penance in the pews before I leave.
Doesnt that sound nice? Ive fucked right up, again and again, and Im here to be punished so I can be forgiven. Then you say some prayers and thats it. No messy screaming matches in your life, no heart rending drama, its all good - you told the Big Guy. He's the only one you need to tell. The priest forgives you in Gods name, and its over. Clean to go fuck right up again.
It just sounds very comforting to me.
I never thought Id hear myself say it, but there you have it. I suppose, when I was running from the church originally, my motivation was that i didnt want to be told not to do something. Now Ive told myself not to go to church. No wonder I want to go!
I might, I might not. Gotta get a job first, but luckily, I have time. For now, the true wonder is the comforting sound of rain.....And the fact I can allow myself some time.....
After feeding the ponies this morning I went back to bed. Thats something Ive done before, but I always have to get up again. Spirit is usually locked in his little yard and the other horses, once finished their breakfasts, all want to get out. We've had a slight restructure - musical horseys? - after Magnus bashed a hole in the side of the house, so there was no need to get up again today. I took off my clothes, put the heater on, and crawled back into bed.
I always used to love the sound of the rain. Thats something of me that has never changed. Its thrilling and yet comforting, relaxing at the same time. It just fills me with peace, whether its dripping and drumming or pouring and thrashing. Oh, the ecstasy.....Of laying warm and cuddled in bed under that lovely sound......I truly, utterly feel sorry for all of you who had to go to work today. Dont worry, I'll be back on the grind punishing myself again soon enough.
But for now, life's about as perfect as it gets. My bills are paid out for the next month, the house is pretty clean, animals are happy...Well, the horses are acting like spoiled kids who cant go out to play, but other than that they're happy....And lots of wood is cut and ready to go.
Ive been working on the wood since last week. Ive been trying to relieve the pressure on mum and Kman, since Im home. You know, kitchen, bathroom, all that. I argued with Kman over the wood - he can cut a lot more than I can - but in the end I just made up my mind and did it. Last week I cut quite a good pile but it burned very quickly. So, I set out to cut a MASSIVE pile, I knew the rain was coming. Its no fun chopping wood in the rain. So yesterday I made my move.
Ladies, if you do not know how to use an axe then dont you dare say you're a feminist! An axe is a mastery of a weapon - I wouldnt ever want to get in a fight without one. Ours is fairly cheap, black blade, hickory handle, but the handle is slender, like it was made for a womans hands. Its slick and smooth, and doesnt give you splinters or blisters. After some haphazard smacking (which I went through last year) you soon learn how to cut. Likewise, after some really hard bits of wood cause your arms to spring back up painfully (without ever scarring the offensive wood) you learn you dont need to put wonder woman power behind every hit. Let the axe do the work. Yesterday I was cutting branches roughly as thick as a thigh - which is tough work. The rythym is magical. Raise....Drop - SMACK! Use the bounce, use the momentum, to bring the axe smoothly up, right hand slides up the shaft like on a lovers skin......As momentum drags the blade back down right hand slides toward the end....Until SNAG you check the momentum just in time to smack. As you go, you can feel you're getting closer, and closer......Until you hear a particular crack. The log hasnt split yet, but that crack signals the end of the fight. Theres an odd sag to the way the log sits there, on the bricks, even though its still in one piece. Nows the time for the wonder woman hit. Same motion....Slide hands.....As you get to the snag point, all your weight, all your power, goes into the very end of the blade and SMACK! The log cracks in two. If your really strong...(Like me!) The two ends may fly up from the force. Once, I surprised myself by how quick my reflexes are. An end flew up towards my face and I whipped the axe handle up to block it. Even Kman was shocked by my speed. Maybe Id do ok in a fight after all eh?
I cant explain the feel of power it gives me. And knowing I can handle the weapon so well, applied to my technical fighting knowledge, it just gives me ideas. Man, Id be unstoppable in a fight. An axe can hook a sword or other weapon out of an opponants hands, it can defend, like a fighting staff, it can stun and disable with its blunt edge, and it can kill. Its a fully flexible weapon.
Can you tell....I love my axe?
Ok, heres one thats going to knock you right over.
Kleo has been thinking about going back to church.
YEAH! Fuck! Like, whats THAT about?
Well, its just an urge, really. A HELL of a lot safer than other urges I happen to have. But for about a year now, if I pass a catholic church, I just get this impulse to go in. Ive started to think wistfully about the idea of mass, communion.....Just kneeling there for a good hour or more in the quiet dark and praying. I even ripped out my old rosary beads. And yeah....Lets face it. Confession. "Bless me Father for I have sinned....(and sinned and sinned and sinned) It has been at least 20 years since my last confession...."
Wow. Is that ever scary. 20 years. The first time I ever said those words - I was in year 2 - I believed it would only ever be a week between confessions. I had heard it, in movies you know - "20 years since my last confession" and I actually thought, those poor souls! Why wait 20 years for Gods Grace? How hard is it to just go to church and pray, confess?
I guess, very hard. Churches have given me headaches for years.
Upon examination of this urge, Ive realized, that I dont quite realize how I became this person. Oh, she's exactly what I wanted to be, hoped to be, and strove to be, but there were things about being this person I hadnt heard. Lets look at it in perspective....
When I went into public high school from a catholic primary school, I always had my top blouse button done up. My shoes were always clean and neat. My books were organised, I always did my homework, I never talked back. I was always early, never late, and didnt know what snooze was supposed to be used for.
Well. After some serious teasing (and beating) the other kids got me right out of that nonsense. Soon I was wearing blouses I could unbutton right down to show my scandalous lacy black bra. Turning up my skirt to make it shorter. Arriving late because everyone else did. Jigging class to smoke. Only doing the homework I actually wanted to do.
It actually didnt hurt me, I'd like to believe. My school marks were great. I took it as permission to be loose, wild and free.
But now.....I guess, I can only say that it boils down to this......There was comfort there in the church, but I forgot you actually have to look for it. You have to put it there. I was expecting the church to woo me back to it - why should it? Its only there if I want it, need it, and despite thinking the bastard might burn down if I try and set foot in it, Im thinking very romantically about......Confession. "Bless me Father for I have sinned..." And I know theres a good chance my penance will be a rosary or similar - so I could complete my penance in the pews before I leave.
Doesnt that sound nice? Ive fucked right up, again and again, and Im here to be punished so I can be forgiven. Then you say some prayers and thats it. No messy screaming matches in your life, no heart rending drama, its all good - you told the Big Guy. He's the only one you need to tell. The priest forgives you in Gods name, and its over. Clean to go fuck right up again.
It just sounds very comforting to me.
I never thought Id hear myself say it, but there you have it. I suppose, when I was running from the church originally, my motivation was that i didnt want to be told not to do something. Now Ive told myself not to go to church. No wonder I want to go!
I might, I might not. Gotta get a job first, but luckily, I have time. For now, the true wonder is the comforting sound of rain.....And the fact I can allow myself some time.....
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Comment by Lilla
Enviro Warrior
An Extra Ordinary Life
Dream Herald
A great tale, a charmed life... your story took me back to my days before the tropics ... way down south in the Snowy Mountains, where at the altitude of 1,000m (well on the snowline), each Sundays treat was to haul ass to the forests to chop wood for the week.
I love the smell of the chain saw in the morning, nothing quite like it, nor the ability to sew your husbands frayed finger back together when he was being clumsy; because of your isolation (and the fact that the doctor didn;t come until Tuesday).
As for the Axe, well splitting logs was womans work around my way too, quite often and I prided myself at being able to master the one-stroke-chop that would split a log like butter. What skills I have mastered.. Amazing how much you can be motivated by the cold, isnt it? At one stage I believe I even thought it was romantic, and I guess it was, looking back on it from beneath my palm tree.
But my sweet, you are still young and my years have marched on and on, and my back grew stiffer with each passing snowfall. I was lucky to be able to have fate interveine and move somewhere more temperate ... sometime too temperate ... and its not that I dont miss the nostalgia of wood chopping you understand, but I wouldnt go back there by choice.
One day you may well have the same memories too ...
Much admiration.
Lilla ...
Comment by Kleonaptra
Kalikapsychosis
Whenever you have time to come and leave a long comment its like we are sitting together somewhere quiet, and shadowed, over steaming tea, talking in hushed voices.....
Yeah, my back cops it, but not just from the wod. Its always exhilerating to be able to cut more each time - evidence that Im getting stronger, and harder. Its needed, Zayfir is a big boy at two and a half now, and Im the prime target for wrestling!
I loved the chainsaw too, but we dont own one. I got taught at one of my old jobs and it sure is exciting...Theres lots of wood around the axe cant touch. Its nice to talk to someone who appreciates the fine art of using an axe!
This winter, being on the beta blockers that force my temperature down, has left me feeling like I just couldnt move south. Not on these drugs. And I cant go off them or the migraines will return. Its been horrid to admit it, but Im actually afraid of the cold now.
So proud to meet another woman who can
Ah, thats inspiring!
Comment by Ash
Australian Traveller
Flashes of memories
Your life sounds rather dreamy at the moment! I saw some land the other day and I thought... ahhhhh to have a piece of heaven to build a little log cabin on and spend the days tending to all that needs to be tended to. What bliss! Never split a log though, I imagine that would take some practise.
I hope you manage to go back into a church sometime. There is a certain serenity about being in one, that silence that speaks volumes. Once, on a trip to Paris. I was in Notre Dame during a service. There was chanting and lazy curls of incence(?) smoke around the altar, light streaming through the magnificent stained glass windows - it was haunting beautiful and so calming. Something spiritual needs an answer perhaps?
Ash
Comment by Kleonaptra
Kalikapsychosis
I think the church thing is even simpler than that. I was comforted there as a child so perhaps I could find it there now? I dont know. I do miss that peace and silence, particularly with the stained glass windows.