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Life on the farm

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Now that the sun has finally reappeared after a prolonged absence it reminds me of a time when I was much younger that I lived and worked on a farm for a while.

The farm I was on was quite remote, the nearest neighbour was a couple of miles away and the nearest village about the same again.
The nearest town was quite some distance and although there was a road past the end of the track into the farm it was too far away to hear much in the way of traffic.
So apart from the occasional aeroplane high above the majority of sounds came from the animals.
Whichever direction you looked there was rolling countryside as far as you could see, something that was particularly noticeable on the way home from the pub on Saturday night.

There was quite a range of animals on the farm although their main business was poultry, which is probably where I picked up so many fowl jokes.
Actually, I don't know if any of you have ever thought about it but birds, of all sorts, are among the sexiest creatures on the planet.
Look at what happens to them even before they hatch!

My favourite times were May and June, although their older sister April wasn't bad either, but she never seemed as warm to me. They were all Girl Guides, which is how I got to meet them.
It always amused me years later when they allowed girls into the Scouts. I had been a Girl Guide long before they even thought of that.
I used to stand outside the village hall on Friday nights saying "This way girls".

Saturday night at the pub was the event of the week though, they had a sing-along and as I said in the last paragraph there was a lot of local talent.
I remember there was one bloke who was always on about his combine harvester.
Another one actually became famous for a while when he came up with the OAP Anthem of the year.

The couple whose farm it was were both locals and I suppose typical of the area. He looked as solid as a rock, and she was built like a brick outhouse.
He was quite pedantic and he could be really outspoken if he heard someone describe something the wrong way, it got him in trouble a few times.

Every week he and I used to drive to the livestock market in the nearest town. Because it was the biggest place for miles around not only did it attract local farmers but also a lot of tourists.
I remember on one occasion he and I were standing by the animal pens and a couple walked up who were obviously not local. I don't think they had seen many farm animals before either.
The woman turned to her husband and said "Look at all those cows", the farmer's ears instantly stood up and he looked her straight in the face and said "Bullocks".
Well! It took twenty minutes to get her husband off of the farmer, and even then he wouldn't accept his explanation.

Ah, those were the days.

This is another extract from Pilgrim: A Brief Hystery.

 :) :) :)

I wish I could walk down memory lane without getting totally depressed ten minutes in. :)

I won't even keep a photo album because of that. :huh:

:) :) :)

I wish I could walk down memory lane without getting totally depressed ten minutes in. :)

I won't even keep a photo album because of that. :huh:-40hz (June 08, 2013, 01:46 PM)
--- End quote ---

My friend I have lived with depression for most of my life. I cannot take anything for it because a) nothing works, b) I adversely react to almost all medication.
Talking about it does not help because, as my Doctor said a few years back, I probably know as much about the subject as most professionals, no-one will ever know me as well as I know myself and the only people who will ever come close to understanding are those who have been there themselves.

I have never kept photos, not just for the reasons you suggest but because all the images that I need are in my mind.

The PulpitIn the last couple of years I have accumulated about half a dozen pictures of people on my computers, with one exception they are all of children.
One is of a friend's first child taken just after he was born (I have never met either of them), the rest are of my grandchildren, two of whom I rarely see, one I have never seen.
The exception is of my youngest son and his wife, him I have not seen for over 30 years, her I have never met, although that should change in a few months time.

Depression is often considered an illness, for me it has always been a fact of life, a part of who I am.

Regrets? If I could go back would I change things?
We can only be the people that we are, we can only do what is there for us to do.

There are many who would disagree with that. They are entitled to their opinion.
If I had lived their lives I would agree with them. If they had lived mine, they would agree with me.

The life that each of us leads is individual to us, it can be very lonely at times but you are not alone.

Stoic Joker:
I have never kept photos, not just for the reasons you suggest but because all the images that I need are in my mind.-pilgrim (June 09, 2013, 04:48 AM)
--- End quote ---

+1 - Same here. Some memories are meant to fade...I don't need documentation reminding me of things I already know too well.

Agree 100%.

The pictures in my mind are always more poignant and beautiful than they probably were in reality.

I've been told the only real difference between being 'normal' and partially (or completely) 'delusional' is the degree to which you're consciously aware of the head games you play with yourself.

Well...I am aware. And I'm also an exceptionally good head game player when it comes to myself thanks to studying Zen and NLP. And my brain records the most wonderful images...which I always have suspected reflect at least 50% wishful thinking om my part - even in a 'best case' scenario.

 So I guess I'm still not too far gone.

Yet. ;D


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