| | I am moving to the World Hunger Relief Farm
the third weekend in August. This is another one of those things that
is enticing in theory but which I am discouragingly inept at in
reality. I can already tell. Positively, I have done this enough times
to recognize it. Negatively, I am still doing it.
When Aimee married Edward she gave me a journal. Inside the front cover
there was an inscription which included something along the lines of,
"I love you because you are afraid to do everything but you do it
anyway."
So I am moving to a farm.
God is funny and likes irony. Also, there is a lid to every pot, and don't you forget it.
The house in Austin is big and dauntingly full of fixable quirks. I
like it there. I would like it more if my magic plastic card was tapped
into an endless fountain of money. Then I could make it what I see in
my head. As it is, this magic card of mine is attached to an invisible
rope/chain that hates me. So I will live on a farm instead. After all
this farm living, when I leave Heuco and go down to nasty ol' A town, I
think I am going to get a real job working with children. Then when
people ask me, "What have you been doing since Mission Year?" I don't
have to hunch my shoulders, bob my head a couple of times, and then
guiltily cough out, "Starbucks!" while shifting from foot to foot. I
can instead return their cripplingly demanding gaze, sneer slightly
and say, "I've been developing a nonprofit incorporating hammock
weaving, cookie eating, sunny days, and literacy, and bringing it all
into some of Austins poorest school districts..." or something like
that.
Sometimes I feel very like quoting five year old Edgar. I am not nobody.
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| | Posted 7/28/2007 12:43 AM - 56 Views - 10 eProps - 5 comments
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