Other readers have little or no interest in poker. They are long-time friends, or, more recently, a few photogs, writers and artists with whom I’ve established relationships. They hit the site to read my (for the most part) daily thoughts or frequent my images.
I am either having a déjà vu or I have written something similar to this in the past. Yeah, it’s been on my mind for some time.
To tell the truth, I haven’t been playing much poker lately. “Rush” on FTP doesn’t count. But “much” is a relative term. I’m down to an hour or so a day. For some, that might seem like a lot, the daily aspect. And even though I am planning on going to R’s home game tonight, the last time I had planned on going, I bailed at the last minute. I opted to stay home and read from the pile of journals and art periodicals I have next to my desk.
This shift, as my buddy Akileos would probably agree, is a good thing. I quit reading, and even making art for a couple years. I suppose it happens to a lot of folks, and I had my reasons, just as I have my reasons for returning to those interests, nay, those passions.
Still, if I do go to R’s tonight, I will most likely want to share thoughts about the game and company, and will stay awake into the wee hours to write about it. So, as long as poker remains in my life, I will write about it.
This, of course, brings us to farming. Again, about an hour a day. These days, aside from the occasional dead animal and egg count, there’s not much to report. And even when we were growing stuff, well, I’d venture to say that out of the 658 posts in the last year and year and a half, maybe 5% have been farm related.
Still, one thing that comes across loud and clear though the archives is that DW and I live out in the country. (Cue the C&W music.) And as I look at my blog page now, I read the little profile blurb: “I live on some acreage in a beautiful part of the world. Sometimes that is enough.” I don’t think that needs any revision.
I suppose I could write more about others in the area who do farm. For instance, I just got off of the phone with Lucinda. They are lambing right now. Today saw the yews spew three sets of twins and a set of triplets. I offered to help, and was declined. I almost asked if I could come photograph the process, and while I am certain some readers might find the subsequent photo essay interesting, I cannot in good conscience stand around with a camera while others do all of the work. It just ain’t done.
I called Lucinda to get the phone number of the widow who owns the property I photographed last week. I wanted to clear another visit or three before I went traipsing back in over the barbed wire. I want to follow up on TM’s query, plus Lucinda told me about an aspect of the area that had peaked my interest on my initial visit and merits further investigation. And, I have an idea for next week’s photo class assignment.
Of course, you, my dear readers, will be the first, and perhaps only, people to know/see what I am teasing you with in the above.
But I’m getting off the subject: we don’t farm anymore, unless you count all of the stuff that needs to be done to this place before we pass it on to someone else who will. And if I’m not going to get up close and personal with farmers while they work, do I get rid of that word in the title? And if so, what, if anything do I replace it with?
Such petty considerations, perhaps. Things change. Get over it. But this is what I do, think about these things. I want to get it right, and the title of this blog should be no less accurate as the intended focus of a photo I take.
The above paragraph would make for a pretty smooth transition into considering the art-related aspects of the blog, would it not? It would, except for you and I both know that above all else in my day-to-day, this “avocation” I hold most dear and would be the last to go. Yet, I am reluctant to make this space solely an appendix to my art website.
And therein lies the answer: a title indicating not particular avocations, but their genesis.