Monday, April 17, 2006


It has dawned on me that I like being a neomodern homesteader. Tonight I'll light the kerosene lamp and read a couple A. B. Guthrie Jr. short stories. Don't ask about the chamber pot. And then I'll fluff up my straw mattress and sleep until the pheasant crows.

And did I mention that both of my pets, Onan the spider and sleekit the mouse, survived winter and seem relieved that spring is here? They are.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

I hadn't read your journal in months, and reading it made me miss my own home, in Minnesota, the farm in springtime. Combined with my father's recent emails about my uncles new hog house and my mother's about her lambing ewes, and the state of their pasture grass, it's making me miss the midwest. But I'm still in it. It's just making me miss THAT midwest, and you seem to be there.

way to be, Chris Sand. way to live.

THE lady said...

re. March 27th... you don't have PLUMBING???? No wonder the ladies have a hard time following you home. Roughin' it sometimes is fun, but come on!

Sandman said...

anon 1 - it's pretty nice here. just lonely sometimes.

anon 2- who ART thou?