More thoughts

Barb walked up to the house today. Since she was attacked by the dog last October, she hasn't been walking much. So we walked together for awhile and talked. I really like her and Delbert. We talk about plants and cattle and seed and flowers and horses.

I am sad to see one of my online friends stop her blog. She is selling her homestead in WA. Five years and she has done so much there - but now she has to move to VA for a job. It was Debbie who introduced me to Dexter cattle for homesteading milk and beef production. She will try to buy some property in VA and do the same thing. Her livein boyfriend seems to have grown tired of her and her pursuits, though, and will probably not go with her this time. Turns out he actually had to do real physical labor and he's not keen on doing that again. Typical of some folk - they desperately want to move to the country and live there, but like another friend says, they think it is all picnics on the back forty and not dirty disgusting hard physical work. Like most people, they want the benefits of a lifestyle - any lifestyle, be it Welfare, big-city, high-end, or farming - but want to do none of the work.

I have to say that this irritates me. I've seen it so often. And what really bugs me is the people who trust them, those ones that live off of others, to pull their own weight - and they never do. They have dozens of excuses and reasons, but they want to live a certain way and see no reason to put an effort into it. They drag their partners right down with them, too - they won't work so they make their partners' work double.

I've watched so many friends get destroyed by their choices in partners and friends. They totally believe that this is the best choice possible, that someone else is willing to put in 50% of the labor and love and effort - and then they end up pulling all of the weight in the relationship. Sometimes they realize what has happened and discard those vampires - but mostly they struggle to live with them, appease them, care for them indefinitely, until the vampires themselves wander off, leaving my friends as empty shells of themselves.

I'm watching a friend now get sucked dry by his vampire friends and family. Friends he chose, it's true - but family, too, that will not stop demanding that he put whatever money or effort he has into them, their hopes, their dreams, their day-to-day lives. Makes me sad - like Debbie, he will never shake them loose until he has nothing left to give, or changes his life in one fell swoop that dislodges them permanently.

Meanwhile, while my 'old' friends watch TV and have parties and skim the Internet and go to the latest restaurants, I drive down to the Hub and have the Sunday grass-fed Angus buffet for $6.50, and chat with friends and co-workers at the school. Then I come back and look at the Internet, comparing tractors and accessories, cattle prices and feed costs; look at the auctions for farm equipment and antiques, and dream and hope and plan. My life is so far removed from them now. A walk around town with a friend is more satisfying and fun than any TV show, the Hub is more pleasureable than any trendy restaurant. And I am sad because they will never have what I have, see what I see, do what I do - and never want to, either.