I found this old blog spot....

It is 2023. It has been over 11 years since I posted here. I forgot this blog existed. Even if I had remembered it, I am still shocked to find I have an easy access blog spot that I can fill with entries about my days.

 

   

I am no longer in Middle Georgia. I transplanted myself out of there eight years ago and moved to SW Oregon where I am no longer a criminal for enjoying cannabis. I am a cannabis gardener now! 

Tomorrow is May 27th. It rolls around once a year and is the anniversary of Carl getting "blowed up" in the Vietnam war.  Previous posts seem to cover that thoroughly. Here we are Eleven Years (!) later and the day is here again.

There are times this date can be very uncomfortable. This year, we seem to be alright even as we notice it’s imminent visit. Carl has many friends here in Oregon, most of whom he met going to various Vet groups. He goes out to eat with them, goes to group with them and talks on the phone. He is connected to them in many ways.

I too, have grown connections in this area. It is a journey to grow up and practically old in one place and then move away in my late fifties. In a way, it is freeing. I found change difficult enough in a South that seems to never change . I am getting older and it nice to be in an area where old and faded is the fashion. We can tell tourists to the area. They are so shiny.  

Here the sun beats you to a pulp in the summer time - at least in years long drought the region is experiencing - the temps have reached 115 degrees in my experience. Summers can go by without a drop of rain. Fires can burn near my neighborhood for two weeks with the National Guard only allowing residents into the area (2018).  Winters have such terribly short days, and summers, indeterminably long days. We are pretty far north up here. I have adjusted to having snow in my life - the whole reason I thought I could never leave the south was snow.

It is a gardening haven where I live. People take it real seriously. I certainly do. It has become purpose for me, this gardening. There is so much wrong in the world but I can put a little carbon back in the ground. Learn to grow food and take care of the soil. I can feed the homeless with my extra produce - practically helpful when I have bumper crops of apples and pears. This year I expect to give squash and corn, tomatoes and beans to the food agencies as well.

 

In the eleven years since I last wrote here, the world went Tipsy Turvey. It is as if we are on another timeline all together. We are no longer on the brink of climate change, but brutally finding out just what the long denied term really means and how it manifests. Rain (a now grown grandchild) asks: would you rather die of water or fire? East or West Coast, she means. I have, for better or worse, chosen the fire. I like I have a new place to share. I like that maybe nobody will ever see it. Ha. i am the invisible writer, naturalist, gardener, priestess - who would like to live out loud - though I don't actually want people watching and hearing. In this place, on the edge of what wilderness is left, maybe I will visit this blog spot again and spill more thoughts, more who I am and what I think about. Become visible in small and meaningful ways.

light, Carole