The Beginning of the End

My time here in the North Woods is drawing to a close. I have been a wrangler for the past two and a half months and now I work in the kitchen, in the AM shift. After working so long with Boss-Lady and Rebekah in the barn, working in the kitchen feels artificial and forced. But I am fairly convinced that this feeling exists only because I made a transition. No doubt that I will feel a little artificial when I drive out to Annapolis in three weeks. Surely in the next day or so I will feel completely at home (and maybe be able to ride Montana again before I leave HoneyRock) washing dishes and helping out in the bakery. But I know it is the beginning of the end - not the end of the beginning, as Mr. Churchill might say.

This has been a most excellent summer - I could not have chosen a better place to earn money for the fall - and I am well aware of what a blessing it has been. I have had a lot of time to read, practice, and think to myself. I have been able to think a lot about iffy-ness and what it could possibly mean. I have been heavily tested with respect to my future decisions and the implications that they could have on me. I am little more sure about the future now than I was three months ago, but I feel much more comfortable with whatever it holds.

If I remember, I will post some anonymous poetry up here; a friend of mine wrote the most amazing bitter love poems ever last week and they're far too precious to fade into obscurity. Given my fierce celibacy, you can imagine how wonderfully I enjoyed them.

Toodles.