Land Breakers
I have snatched a few moments to collect my thoughts. Sometimes it is a matter of forcing yourself to write! All day I have had thoughts and breakthroughs while matching lost socks or scrubbing grout. When the screen opened to this blog applet, I almost recoiled at the blankness. I am not a diarist here, nor I am not an intellectual, or even a working writer anymore. My days are filled with the pottery business and motherhood and the endless chores a rural property demands. I have carved a little space in the study now that the kids have returned to school. It's a busy room. There's Andrei's fly-tying desk that has a roll-down lid which hides the hooks, feathers, wires, fur, small packets of foam, a vice, and lamps. Old oil paintings have made it into this room, as well as a spare bed and a large storage shelf which is erupting with school books and how-to guides. From cooking to gardening, to building a mud brick house, we are ready to be land breakers. The house seemed ...





