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| The Farm |
Jeff—Saturday
That question, set out as the title for this piece, is borrowed
from the lyric of a popular World War I song utilizing Paris as the pastoral
antithesis, but it seems clearly directed at the contrast between my life on
Mykonos—the embodied epitome of midsummer hedonistic madness (an admitted
overabundance of modifiers—but appropriate for making the point)—and August on an
utterly rural, northwestern New Jersey 18th Century farm.
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| Amish signature and date on a chestnut beam in the "new" barn |
I’m not sure I can as effectively convey in words what makes
the dichotomy work so well for me as I can in photographs. You all know what
Mykonos looks like—or can easily find thousands of photos that display it in
heart-stopping detail—but here are photos of the place that keeps me rooted to
a different sort of life.
This morning that life had me finally getting my pick-up
truck running again (overcoming a dead battery and two flat tires), getting the
hot water working again (a circulator pump replacement required), transferring a
barn stall’s worth of stored furniture to the front and rear porches of the farm
house (so that my late-afternoon-arriving grandchildren and their parents had a
place to sit), and running to tractor supply and farm stores for all sorts of
vittles, equipment, and critter battling necessities.
AND I LOVE EVERY MINUTE OF IT. Here’s why:
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| For those of you looking for mystery, imagine what this was used for in the middle of the woods |
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| For action, there's always the diner...especially for Friday the 13th fans. |
Ahhh, Sleep, perchance to dream...or scream.
—Jeff
Posts
We understand the split personality lifestyle well. . .and as August gets underway in Greece, wonder why we haven't followed in your footsteps (once again)!
ReplyDeleteIt took me a quarter of a century to realize the error of my ways, so you have time. :)
DeleteLooks lovely, Jeff. But I could do without the motor repairs!
ReplyDeleteIt so happens the mechanic is a great guy, but on opening the barn, finding two flat tires, a dead battery--and later on no AC in 37C weather--was a definite downer.
DeleteI'll take the farm every time, thank you. Welcome home!
ReplyDeleteAs the farmer said when he was kissing his horse, "It's all a matter of taste."
DeleteHave you never heard the saying "Never kiss a gift horse on the mouth," Jeff?
DeleteUm, to be a pedant, isn't 1849 the 19th Century rather than the 18th, or is the farm far older...? (That would account for it being the 'new' barn, after all...)
Nay, on the horse kissing moment. :)
DeleteI was wondering who would point out the difference in centuries, and Sharp eyes caught it.:) Yes, the older part of the barn and oldest part of the house go back to the late 1700s...considered modern by UK standards.
Wow. Again, where do you go from here, (Afterlife)? I gotta see what your corner of Heaven looks like, Jeffrey!
ReplyDelete