journal excerpt:
it seems like with every rain comes a loss. books ruined, clothes smell of mildew, things to repair. after a year and two months of subsistence i am desperate for the steady comfort of an adequate shelter. the freedom of time to spin, sew, create, paint... without the need to build and fix, build and fix. i want to maintain. move and feed animals, tend the garden. harvest and preserve. i feel myself getting closer and closer to that, and i yearn for it. still, it will be years. years of slow progress witnessed. as the thyme grows, the trees rise, the plaster is smoothed, crops stored for sustenance.
it seems like with every rain comes a loss. books ruined, clothes smell of mildew, things to repair. after a year and two months of subsistence i am desperate for the steady comfort of an adequate shelter. the freedom of time to spin, sew, create, paint... without the need to build and fix, build and fix. i want to maintain. move and feed animals, tend the garden. harvest and preserve. i feel myself getting closer and closer to that, and i yearn for it. still, it will be years. years of slow progress witnessed. as the thyme grows, the trees rise, the plaster is smoothed, crops stored for sustenance.
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