Wish in one hand and.....

I was gonna post yesterday but.....no who am I kidding I wasn't gonna post.  I read up on some blogs and commented here and there but I really had nothing in my brain desperately trying to make it out into public.  I quit trying to force it.  It just ends up reading hard and no one wants to read that crap.

When I originally started blogging I would just say what I did that day or take pictures of projects I was working on and post them step by step.  That made me happy!

In fact,  if you scroll back through my old stuff there is a photo workshop on things like skinning a deer, butchering a deer,  making sausage sticks and summer sausage,   making goose jerky,   building a smoker ,  numerous cooking recipes and even things like cutting down a Christmas Tree. 

There's poems and short stories,  funny things,  bewildering things,  perhaps something special as well as some touchy thought provoking lectures.

It seems like I've lost my touch.  I spend most of my blogging time trying to get comments or awards or just trying to write as incredible as some of you do.

Who am I kidding though.  Well... apparently me for awhile.  I just want to get back to enjoying my blog and not making it seem like work.  It's easy to get wrapped up in this.

I apologize for all the ill wishes and rants dealing with my current situation.  I am sure it's getting very old. 
Sometimes I feel as though my spirit is just spread way too thin.  As Bilbo would say, " like not enough butter over too much bread".  I just feel airless.  Purposeless.  I'm afraid when the time comes I won't be able to get out of my funk and I will be stuck here with the hairballs under the TV stand that somehow elude the vacuum every time.  Forever lost in an eternity of self pity and doubt.  Wishing I had what the next person has and never being able to be complacent.  Always with the hand of judgement raised over my head without pity and without compassion. 

I long for the freedom of the woods and the babbling brooks, the soft nest of moss where I sit and read.
I dream of the Himalayas and the jungles of South America.  Yearn for the cafes of Italy and the warmth of the Caribbean.  The shadowed caverns of the Sonoma wine caves and the wide open spaces of the Wyoming prairie.

To once again stand upon those prairies, as I did many years ago, and gaze far into the endless horizon and inhale the aromas of wild flowers and sage.

To venture into the Californian valleys at the base of the Sierra Nevadas following the clear cold streams in search of the perfect fishing or swimming hole.  Gazing in wonder at the old log flumes zigzagging their way down the foothills.

Flying across the tundra of Northern Quebec awestruck by the beauty of humanless nature.  Then hiking into land where the ground is permanently frozen and nothing grows taller than a bush.  Watching endless herds of Caribou on their epic migrations.

Horse backing deep into the Selway Bitterroot range of the Rocky Mountains sandwiched between Montana and Idaho.  Absorbing the beauty of a mountain meadow with it's brilliant wild flowers and white birch.

I have done many of these things and they all call to me in one way or the other.  I don't know why I love the Himalayas and Mt Everest so much.  Perhaps that is where I am meant to die.  I would really love to visit Italy first though.  Perhaps Bermuda, Bahama come on pretty momma!

I suppose I had better just get back to work tomorrow and leave all the dreams to someone else. 

One day you wait and see.

I know your time is valuable but these links are precious to me.  Just have a peek at one or two and maybe then you'll understand just a bit more about me.

Thanks again fellow friends!


Remember look up!  My children are up there smiling at you!