“Repeat a lie regularly enough and it will soon become ranked with conventional truth…”
Francis Rupert Legge
When the weather changes for real into Fall I’m reminded of living on the farm in the 90’s. The farmhouse and a couple of acres remained as the suburbs crept closer. In the back a acre of so of well tilled field, smokehouse/shed, two, three sided barns, one housed the grist mill. The mill was powered by rather large and rather loud tractor, sitting on cement blocks and a couple of flat tires. The belts she turned would be shifted to shell the dried corn from the cobs or turn the mill wheel. The leftover cornmeal dust on the floor always showed the tiniest mouse footprints, surprising considering the dozen feral cats living in the barns!
Around the middle of October, I’d be out digging up the rows of sweet potatoes below the terrace. Ripping out the vines by hand, rolling them into bundles tossed aside. I’d find myself excited as a kid on the way to a county fair. Digging out the tubers balances a fine line, ‘between the last rain and first frost’. Stacked they would lay in the field as I head back to the farmhouse in the evening twilight, putting away the hoes and shovel in the middle barn. Unfailingly my adopted cats would be sitting on the well-cover, together with out fail they would look at me, look at each other and at the same time hit the ground softly as one not three we’d go inside for the night. Winter, Spring, Summer an Fall this repeated itself hundreds of times and you know what? I simply never took one moment for granted. It was Heaven.
My soul was kick around a bit just last week from a vehicle accident bout a mile from where I’d lived on the farm. The road runs long and area is a refuge too deer and the coyotes, either of which I suspect as the ’cause’. Akshay, who did not survive the accident, received the Ferrari from his parents. I have lost some friends, brothers in a similar accident decades ago. The brothers are buried together behind the Augusta National golf course. It’s infrequent now that I stop in to pay my respects. Thirty years after I wonder what if it never happen and will always.
I cannot get enough of online literary magazine, The Rumpus.net with the musings of editor in chief Stephen Elliott. Whenever you find a free moment support them and check out ‘Letters in the Mail’, and ‘Letters for Kids’. The Rumpus.net has grown up quickly across the universal net of knowledge, literature, and the outlandish.
With that in mind I’ve been following Geoff Lemon from ‘down-under’ for several years. Similar to the above yet vastly different is “Going Down Swinging”. I’ve been a follower of Geoff’s’ blog , “Heathen Scriptures” prior to the launch of GDS. Here is a link to a post from GDS that tugs me back often and I hope you also……The Blue Corner/Sometimes Poems…“Cold Was the Ground”.
I remain McTell…