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Small things...

So the saying goes, 'It's the small things that count'. As I think about this a little and my mind wanders off to the trees and the nymphs and sprites floating among the green leaves, then to the little people, the one's who steal my keys when I am in a hurry... and then, well... ... ...

I've returned to Earth, which, I suppose is where I belong, and where this blog is going.

Small things. I spent four days in what I call [another] little eden of mine. I have a long history of referring to my 'little edens', but I don't want anyone to misconstrue - these are not the biblical version, though I'd be a denier if I claimed there was no connection - by using the word, I make the connection. Let's categorize my little edens and place them neatly in the locus amoenus category - which is where edens are often housed in literature - the paradises in the mind. This eden of mine though is a paradise, a garden of the birth of human-kind - though, not at all the original location of sin... bah! I like to extract the passion and the love and the beauty and if Adam & Eve participated in a little hanky panky, if Adam partook of the forbidden fruit, Eve the seed - all the power to them. We're still here after either millions or thousands of years, depending on what you believe, so the small gesture of taking a bite out of that sexy apple really hasn't been a catastrophe in the end. We should get over it and let it be the small thing that it was.

This eden was in South Dakota, which was beautiful, like my companion while there. I went ostensibly to help construct a chicken patio with a fascinating, beautiful new friend. We had a ton of fun lolling around acting like we would get to the patio soon and pouring yet another glass of wine, then I finally decided it was time to do the patio, and we did. It was well started, well designed and it was beautifully simple - all loose and functional. And I loved that. As much as I loath poor quality, I also adore the make-do project and person who can live rather than obsess. I like things that do what they are designed to do, and nothing more. The patio had no chrome or gold plating, no fancy door, no tricky latches, no expensive products to preserve it - just barn boards, rusty chicken wire and our own sweat and grit and a million staples and other bits of our selves both literal and figurative.

Some might say we 'wasted our time' if it isn't going to last a farmer's eon, but in my opinion, we got it done and had fun doing it. The small things, the company, the breaks we took, the interaction and figuring the best way to do something, the meeting of our minds - on some levels small, but on others a hugely beautiful discovery.

There are now 5 happy chickens in a small literary town in South Dakota who will begin laying eggs this fall. They will provide good food to my fellow constructionist, will fulfill the small lives of these chickens, will be something good for this Earth and the few people on it who partake of the pleasures of these fresh eggs.


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