A JAZ Farm truism:
It took a lot of grit and determination to create this life murdering colossus we call civilization. We extolled its virtues and named it progress. For we the people who have rejected this, tried to revive the old ways and live a life in the Shire, when you are virtually alone, the work required is just as arduous and is almost a super human endeavor. The forces are conspired against you. Be dedicated. Be driven. Rebel.
The TFL tear has put me out of commission for awhile. I did my first look in the mirror since Monday when I felt it give and was met with this lovely softball sized bruise. I dug out the old crutches and ice packs and began what felt like an old familiar routine. I spent many a month on the floor on Basil’s Orthopedic dog bed prior to my back surgery. Today it put me in the best position to apply pressure and ice. I have to admit that I’m pretty sick of being injured. The past three years have been a few for the books. Even the dogs seemed to remember the old routine: Icing, staring at my pad and puppy piles. Gotta let this one heal up good and then strengthen it. Time to change farm directions.
According to the flight tracker, Zina is in the air on her way back to me. While the whole trip was hard, I’m sure today was doubly so. I imagine having to deal with ill parents at their stage of life is pretty tough. Leaving, all the more so. We love you my wife. Me, Aaron and all the silly critters. It is no consolation, but this too shall pass. It was a rocky couple of weeks but I’m glad you went. Really.
As with everything we have dealt with this quarter plus century, nothing happens in a vacuum and it certainly doesn’t happen one at a time. It’s time to rest and let the world fade away for awhile. Its a rough time on the homestead.