You put your mind to the task. You ignore the wind, the rain, the cold. You just focus on digging those post holes, hangin' that wire... building that fence.
But... it can blind you too... like frogs in a pan... and each little bit the water gets warmer... 9 of the 10 frogs swim around extolling the virtues of their world and how fortunate they are to have such a nice warm pool of water. The 10th lil green fella keeps looking over the edge of the pan...
He sees the big hand come down and turn the knob... and in a bit the water gets warmer... he adds it up, figures it out, and don't see a harmonious outcome. So... he tries to tell everbody and points at the hand.
Of course they all laugh at him. Call him names. Whiner, Complainer, downer... and worse... and he sees the hand again... and the water is yet warmer... and the ridicule sends him off alone.
It hurts him... but... he climbs out and leaves... Some time later, he hears about a disaster where 9 frogs got boiled alive...
I'm goin' home...
|*Brian - 1968*|
|*Cheiran - 1977+-*|
|*Cheiran - early '90's*|
|*Sonja - 2013*|
|*Leather Shop and Journal Making*|
Somewhere... if I have to crawl... Is a place where I can fit... a place where the "mix" sorts itself out.
Sunrise on the farm this morning...
and views... around the place...
|*The High Lonesome in the Distance*|
Somewhere is a place... where the quiet allows horses to drive away the ghosts... Where your simple labor isn't stolen from you... where you don't have to guard your back 24/7.
I'm going there.