last updated 12.12.24



December 3, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
I've been staying up way too late this week for no valid reason other than restlessness. It's 10 now so I figured I might as well write and maybe this will help put me to sleep earlier. I came in around 8. It was a productive day. I finished installing the new leaf springs on the truck this evening then took a cowboy tub then went back outside in the dark with my headlamp on to put all my tools away because they said it might snow so I couldn't just leave them in piles on the grass or on the tailgate of the truck. I'll organize them better in the morning, but they're out of the weather if we get any. It's supposed to be 16 degrees tonight so my knee teepee that I'm typing under at the moment is one sleeping bag, three comforters and one wool blanket thick. Remembering last winter, I made sure all the dishes were done and emptied the water out of the sink so it isn't a big block of ice with forks and knives sticking out of it in the morning.

Now what? I can't keep working on the truck forever. I got it in decent running condition. I've been thinking about picking up some work to replenish all the money I've been spending on it before leaving, but I should probably work on the yukon next and then sell it. I've been holding onto it in case I needed a second vehicle to run to the auto parts store for one thing or another while I was working on the truck, but I haven't needed to. However, it did come in handy last night when I wrapped a big tow strap around the frame of the truck and attached the other end to one of the tow hooks on the front of the yukon then ratcheted it good in tight. I had to jack the entire rear of the truck off the ground, set it on jack stands, remove both wheels, then lower the rear axle onto the ground in order to fit the new leaf springs on and I wasn't taking any chances, this time, on the truck rolling on top of me like it did a couple years ago when I was working by myself in a different field with a similar slope. I'm lucky to be alive and learned my lesson.

I don't need to make any decisions tonight. I'll sleep on it. I can't believe it's December. Thanksgiving came and went. It took me a fair amount of driving around Greenfield, but I managed to find a soup kitchen to volunteer at. I never even saw the woman who I spoke to about helping out when I showed up. I just assessed what needed to be done and blended in with all the other people. Some worked there, some were volunteers, too, who signed up ahead of time the proper way. They all seemed to know each other, but when you immediately make yourself useful rather than stand around asking "What can I do?" no one questions who you are. They assume you know what you're doing and give you more to do once you finish one thing. It worked out well, I kept myself busy and they thanked me repeatedly which felt good. I couldn't bring myself to take a turkey dinner home even though they had extras. I was there to help, not take handouts. I know. I have issues. I did allow myself a slice of pumpkin cheesecake because they had way more left over than they knew what to do with and I hadn't eaten all day.

Well, it's 10:30 now and I feel a little less restless seeing as I can move forward on other projects tomorrow so maybe I'll try to sleep.



December 10, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
I think for the first time I've actually been afraid to write. There's been plenty of times when I didn't feel like writing, was super busy with work or didn't think I had anything worthwhile to say, but I've never been afraid to. I've been in a holding pattern for the last week. All the snow we got hit with definitely has something to do with my lack of progress, but I've been living with snow my whole life. It slowing me down at the moment is only a symptom of something else, not the problem itself. Maybe it's because I don't have a definite plan, but that's what writing is supposed to help me do, make a plan, so why would I be reluctant to write? What else could it be? The fear of judgment comes to mind. I've said many times that most judgement is simply a form of someone else's unhappiness. This is what I was analyzing, this fall, as I observed the effects that working for a corporation rather than an owner has on a person. Those who pursue money and profit above all else, including people, are secretly miserable inside no matter how rich they get. The proof is in their behavior. Happy people don't act like that. The same can be observed in why we're always hurrying as a society, packages need to be delivered as soon as possible, standing in line at a store makes us anxious, sitting in traffic doesn't allow us to drive as fast as we want, etc. Trying to run away from unhappiness only perpetuates it. If you're walking in the woods, see a bear and begin running for your life, it's no different than walking in the woods and thinking you see a bear then running for your life. The result is exactly the same. What if there was no bear? What if the only way of knowing this is to stop running. Acknowledging unhappiness is the only way to get rid of it and this requires us to stop and face it, not hurry to escape it, and this includes me.

My hero is an old timer who has a big work shop, barn or garage which is neat and organized. He takes his time with every project and this is obvious in what he creates or fixes. You can almost feel the patience put into it when viewing the end product. He is my role model. This is how I want to be so rushing to get out of here completely sabotages this approach to life. When I look back over the last year at all my assertions that I'll be leaving here soon, who created these imaginary deadlines? I did. Why? Some of the reasons are mine and some are a result of the unhappiness around me. There's nothing I can do about being surrounded by unhappy people while not having a single person in my life, but I can address my own unhappiness and face it. The mind is a trickster. I can't let it convince me that my problems are being caused by someone or something else. If I'm rock solid, I can handle anything. If I'm not, changing the scenery isn't going to fix this.

What do I really want to do? I want to keep working on my house and make it super cool, cozy and dialed in. Rushing to get out of here by only working on what is absolutely necessary in order to head down the road only perpetuates the unhappiness that is making me want to leave in the first place. How do I address this in a wise and healthy way? Let's not forget that it's friggin' winter in New England. All the snow did was make me not want to be here, but the weather is not the real issue.



December 11, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
I sent out a couple emails about work, today, and I might stop by a couple other places, tomorrow. This felt like a step in a ...good direction, not sure if it's the right one yet. The weather's gotten temporarily warmer and we've been getting some rain which is making everything messy and muddy. Leaving my tiny house where it is, heading south and coming back in the spring doesn't feel like a bad idea either.

Mr.Fireman is building a new barn, mr.Finance would love some more help on his property and there's a cool maple syrup farm in VT looking for help. These are all possibilities, too, but I wouldn't have a place to live while working any of them. If I'm going to rough it, I might as well do it in a warmer climate.

Then, there's mr.Model in Tennessee. I haven't talked to him in quite a while, only a few texts here and there. The last time we spoke during the summer, we got into it a little bit because he was frustrated with me when I confessed that I feel alone when he's basicly been begging me to come down there with him. The problem is I feel just as alone when I'm with him. Sneakers untied, shoe laces dragging on the ground, pants hanging off his ass, eating junk food all day, smoking pot and talking my ear off the entire time. I didn't want to hurt his feelings, but I just couldn't subject myself to that anymore. The real issue is the conversations feel almost like an argument. I took a chance and confessed something to him and he got mad at me for it not because he cared about me, but because he wanted something from me. This is where his frustration was coming from. He wasn't getting what he wanted. Things in Tennessee haven't turned out like he hoped. I had no desire to argue with him every day. I've studied and taken countless nvc (non-violent communication) workshops and loved what I learned. I've even done the 12 steps of Alcoholics Anonymous and I've never had a drinking problem, for cripes sake! It sounds touchy-feely, but real communication actually works very effectively when used for the right reasons to resolve differences between two calm rational parties. I love communication and know how to do it. It's amazing, but you can't get water from a stone no matter how perfectly you try to talk to someone. When one person is running at 50% or lower, arguments are constantly waiting in the wings and I'm not going to live like that, not to mention he can't afford to pay me even close to what I should make doing what he wants me to do. He took the fancy road making crazy money as an actor and a model living in LA and jet-setting around the world while I've busted my ass on farms making next to nothing year after year. Now, he wants to tap into all my experience and abilities, but still pay me peanuts. I can't go along with that. I'll stick with farms. I've thought about telling him all this and having a real heart to heart, but like I already said, there's no getting around the fact when someone doesn't have any more to give.

I know how to work hard and I know how to be happy. I'm just sick of being alone. I want to find others like me. Then, we can be an example to anyone willing to adopt the humility it takes to learn how to as well. If I have to tough it out up here for another winter in order to do this, I guess that's what I'll have to do. That's life. It's not perfect, but I can try to have a perfect attitude.



December 12, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
Maybe I was afraid to write last week because I didn't think it was going to help scared to admit that I was trapped with no solution. When I look back to that day this summer when I went deep down the rabbit hole of loneliness in an attempt to force myself to make finding others to share my life with just as important as my external projects are whether they be working on my vehicle, my tiny house or even the book, I realized that I still haven't done anything about this. All I did was post on a couple websites and made a few new contacts out west, but nothing has changed in my day to day life. I only put yet another condition on my projects by making me feel like I had to finish them in order to be who I presented myself to be to these people. Last week, I tried to assert that I'm not going to make any type of plan unless it includes improving this issue in a real way and this is what caused me to feel stumped, trapped and in a holding pattern because I couldn't come up with one.

To my shock, MissButterfly called me, yesterday. I was out doing errands so I sat in the truck in a parking lot and spoke with her for a few minutes. We haven't talked in a couple months. It didn't go great. I still feel bad about this, a day and a half later. I thanked her for respecting my wishes by not showing up at my house unannounced anymore even though not calling me technically was part of my request, too. She was supposed to wait to here from me, but in her defense I told her that I would reach out and say good-bye before I left which I still planned on doing, but I didn't know when that was going to be so I haven't reached out. She told me that it hasn't been easy and confessed that she drove by here and thought about leaving something in the yukon, but didn't recognize my new truck parked in its space so she didn't stop. We made a little small talk, but I didn't have much to say. My stomach was in a knot. She asked if we could hang out sometime and I told her that I didn't think so. I felt awful about this, but part of me believed that it was the right thing to do. I told her that I planned on contacting her when I could have a more positive unconditional view of things, but that hasn't happened yet. She told me that it sounded like I was still holding onto certain things, but I told her that I wasn't holding onto anything. I felt like she was putting me on the spot so I said, "It was humiliating and I have no desire to spend time with someone who humiliated me." I didn't say this with any anger. We were both very soft spoken and calm throughout the whole conversation. I was just being honest, but that statement pretty much put an end to everything. There was a long silence. Then we both quietly said "Ok, take care," and hung up. It sucked. That's not how I wanted things to end between us, but as lonely af as I am I wasn't going to be coerced into returning to something that was so unhealthy. I wish she would have waited until she heard from me so I could have handled it in a more positive way, but she didn't. I wasn't trying to be spiteful or teach her a lesson. I was just trying to look out for myself.

This past week has been bad. Really bad. Dead to the world bad. And right now, if I wanted, I could be in her bed with the kids piled ontop of us watching a movie with a warm fire going below on the second floor heating the whole house. We could start a brand new life together. All I would have to do is say the word and my life would be instantly transformed.

A couple years ago I would kill to be in the position that I'm in right now with a cool new truck, a funky tiny house that's 75% completed and a book that I'm super excited about sharing with the world. Regardless of the fact that it's the onset of winter, I would still be psyched. I just need to clear my head. Maybe I should drive somewhere and get away for a few days. Maybe I should take a bus. That's always a humbling experience and makes me appreciate what I've got. Something's got to change.

Going back to work living up here the way I do would be insane. The only way to make winter life possible is by adhering to a seasonal pace, meaning everything takes twice as long as it does in the summer. Waking up in a frozen house, getting ready for work, putting in a full day, coming home to a frozen house, making dinner and getting ready for bed to do it all, again, the next day would be a grueling existence. I've already done it back in Maine for the winters of '14 and '15 when I was working as a construction supervisor building houses for lower income families while living off the grid in a stealth camper/enclosed work trailer on a small piece of rented land. Not exactly fun, but I survived it. Wrote about it in my previous blog. If there's a way to make life harder than it needs to be, I usually find it, but when is it going to stop?

I need to accept that this isn't working. I think this is what I've been afraid of for the past week or so. I've been living like this for too long. On the one hand, I love the simplicity. On the other hand, the isolation might finally kill me. No one is going to tap me on the shoulder and say, "Ok buddy, enough is enough. It's time to try something else." I have to tell myself this. Then I have to figure out what doing something else looks like. I'm not going to sell out and take a job for the money only to turn into a zombie or robot, but to be realistic, I might have to cut my losses and walk away from what I'm trying to pull off, maybe for a little while. Like I've said many times, how can I expect people to believe in working and living together instead of living separate lives while chasing the almighty dollar, if I accomplish writing a book promoting more universal values while living alone white-knuckling it the whole time. That's completely hypocritical. I'm living just as separate as everyone else, even more so, on top of the fact that I'm not even reaping the benefits of modern life. I'm living like a monk, but not in a monastery. I have no church. I'm a wolf without a pack. An army of one is only fueled by pride, and probably fear, no matter how well-intended I might be.

I've had plenty of offers from people, farms and intentional communities all over the U.S. for years, but none of them felt perfect so I've remained solo, but again, if I keep this up, I don't think it's going to end well. I need to make a change. On my immediate plate, I need to fabricate a couple pieces of steel plate to fix a rusty spot on the yukon. Once this is done, I should sell it. Leaving it here for months while mice move into it, would not be a smart move. It's supposed to be in the high teens, tonight, and the single digits tomorrow night, but the sun should be out during the day so I'll have to suck it up long enough to get this done along with a few other logistics then I need to go someplace where I can be around people. I don't have a choice. I can't allow the mental game of "If only I get this one more thing done then..." to keep me chasing a carrot that I still haven't caught.





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January 7, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
I need a sled. We got our first real snow of the winter this week and the field my tiny house is parked in has a gradual uphill slope which gets pretty steep at the top where I am. I'm not sure if I can make it all the way down to the road from here, but it'd be fun to try. I could probably use the lid off one of my big storage bins. I'm sure I'll have a few empty ones by the time I'm all packed up and ready to hit the road. It's great that I even want to go sledding. It's been a long journey back to the playful happy person I knew I could be. The unforgiveness of the road makes me cautious to celebrate how good I feel, but I can do both, respect the road and celebrate the joy of being alive, if I do it with discipline. I'm going to try and write more consistently, too. I've gone without it long enough which is fine, but if I look at it as a form of work by documenting the social experiment that has become my life, not a crutch for a vain ego, it seems like a worthwhile effort. Not sure if I'll post it in the blog, though.(uploaded 2.19.24)



January 11, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
Eleven great days and counting. This must be some kind of record. At least, it is for me. I got some stuff done, today, enough to call it a productive one. I finished building 4 extra feet of deck space onto the back of the trailer to fit my 14.5' kayak so it's not sticking off the end. I like it when things look neat and organized, not cluttered. I loaded the kayak, generator, stock tank -that's a galvanized metal tub for feeding livestock or a bathtub for a redneck off-the-gridder like me, bike trailer and big deck box which I assembled this afternoon with most of my tools in it onto the flatbed section of the tiny house trailer and it all fits nicely and uncluttered with plenty of room for a motorcycle if I choose to get one. I'll build a rack for the kayak and my mountain bike next. Today, I just wanted to see if everything fit.

I'm still getting over a little cold that I got from my buddy, mr.Model, last week when I flew to Tennessee to look at some land with him. We spent three days driving around in a rental car together with him coughing the whole time. No biggie. I'll survive. He's back down there again, today, but I'm up here in western Mass sitting on my couch which I built just before Christmas in case I had any company, but I didn't. We had a couple sunny days earlier in the week and that's all I need to charge up my deep cycle battery in order to have the lights on in the house. It's a pretty simple life when being able to turn a light on at night is cause for celebration, but it is. Wouldn't have it any other way. It's a little after 5 so it's dark outside and the temperature is dropping. I just finished putting my tools away. It's nice and warm in the house so much that I just turned off the furnace which I, also, installed just before Christmas in case I had company, but I didn't. It has a built in thermostat so it will turn off once the temperature in the room reaches 70. I've still got layers of work clothes on so I don't need it that warm, right now. I keep it off to conserve propane. I'll install one of my mini-rocket-mass-mason stoves as a primary heat source once I design another one. For now, the furnace works great. It takes all of 3 minutes to make it nice and warm in here, one of the perks of living in a phonebooth.

I thought I was going to have company because when I drove to Maine earlier in December to register the trailer -I still have Maine plates and a Maine driver's license. If I got a new license and registration every time I moved, it would amount to thousands of dollars. Sorry, I'm not going to penalize myself for trying to live a simple and free life. Maine is where I've lived the most. Anyways, I realized that I'd be driving right past missFlowerchild's town which is about an hour and a half away from here so after a few minutes of contemplation I decided that I'd feel bad if I drove that close to where she lives and didn't say "Hi" so I texted her. It was a little too spur of the moment for her to have me stop by that evening, but she asked me to let her know when I'd be driving through on my way back so I did. I didn't realize until I was sitting at her kitchen table the next afternoon that I wanted to apologize to her for not being a better friend over the last few years. Now that I'm doing so well, I can see just how poorly I was doing when we met in 2020. It was a nice moment and I gave her a big hug as I went to leave. Before I arrived, she told me that she had stuff to do at 3pm so I knew it was going to be a quick visit. At that point, I was still sleeping on the floor of the tiny house at night which had no front door so I was eager to get back because I had plenty to do, too. Next thing I knew we were making out and she was stuffing her hand down the front of my pants. I've got to be careful who I hug in 2024. Those things are dangerous.

Before I left, the next day, she eagerly told me that she'd be in Montague the following week for the winter solstice which she celebrates with a group of women she meets with every year so I assumed I'd see her when she was in my town, but I didn't even hear from her. Not sure why. She's definitely still living the polyamorous lifestyle so maybe she had a different dude lined up already. It's a little odd that she was excited to tell me that she'd be just down the road from where I live and then crickets. Oh well, easy come easy go, I guess. I'm definitely not living the poly lifestyle and never will be. It hurt that she drove all the way out here and didn't even say "Hi" while she was in town, but that was last year. All better now. The way I look at it is maybe it was a blessing in disguise. The possibility of having company motivated me to build the front door and buy a furnace. Now, if I ever do, it'll be cozy and warm in here.(uploaded 2.19.24)



January 12, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
Before heading into Turners Falls to do laundry, I carried the deep cycle battery over to the spot in the field that slopes to the south and attached my little solar panel to it so it could charge while I was gone doing errands. It looks pretty funny sitting in the grass beside missLuna's giant array of panels that she has for her house. Picked up some paraffin lamp oil at the hardware store for the nights when I don't have electricity and a couple of 12 foot 2x4's at the lumber yard for a kayak rack. I've got to order a lift-spring for the small enclosed trailer's ramp door. It was missing one when I bought it this summer and a person can't lower the door to load stuff into it without one. The door would crush you. They're very heavy hence having a spring assist mechanism. I just used the front ramp door and the other side door all summer. Of course, I'm going to order one for the big door in the back and install it before I sell it. I'd like to find a little more work before I hit the road, too. I don't like spending money when I'm not making it, but finding short term work isn't always easy. Selling the enclosed trailer will help a little and it needs to happen before I leave anyways. I've already moved a lot of stuff out of it and into the tiny house, but I might have to part with a few things. We'll see. It's going to be close.

I've learned a lot from living as a happy person even if it's only been for a couple weeks. I'm sure I've been happy before at other times in my life. I just didn't realize or appreciate it like I do now. I remember an expression that I used to use when I was in my early 20's. "You won't recognize heaven unless you've been through hell." I thought it was something deep and cool to say. What did I know then about either heaven or hell, a middle-class white boy from suburbia? Anyone who's been through their own personal hell knows that it's got less to do with what's on the outside and more to do with what's going on in the inside. Everyone's rock bottom is different. For some, it could be lying in the gutter down a dark alley holding an empty bottle in a paper bag. For others, it could be losing it all in the stock market. For anyone, it's what drives a person to consider making the kind of fatal decision that you can't take back. However, let's be clear. A poor child starving in Somalia knows a little more about hell on the outside than a spoiled rich kid in America. We can't judge one another based on the lot in life we were born into. If these two children switched places, the Somalian child would grow up a spoiled American and the rich kid would know the trials of living in a third world country without even basic human necessities. A great deal of our lives is decided for us before we're even born despite how much emphasis is placed on freedom and individuality in this country. Who we are on the inside is based less on where we start our lives and more on how we finish them. The journey is about returning to who we are supposed to be if we at some point lost our way. I'm a long way from who this world tried to make me and much closer to who Mother Nature intended for me to be. This is the task at hand for each and everyone of us no matter where we were born or how we grew up. Our life becomes our own when we have no one to thank or blame for what we make of it. I didn't grow up rich, but some families in my town were. We were definitely rich compared to someone living in a third world country. It's all relative and I used to judge myself for where and how I grew up when I'd meet those who were less fortunate than me along the road I've taken, but the day finally arrived when I paid a toll that allows me to laugh and smile like I do, now. (uploaded 2.19.24)



January 19, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
Three comforters, two sleeping bags and a heavy wool blanket. It's supposed to be in the single digits, tonight, but I'm as snug as a bug. I spend a good half hour every morning defrosting things and melting ice on the stove so I can wash my face and do the dishes after breakfast. #MLR . In the wintertime, the cooler isn't for keeping things from spoiling. It's to keep things from freezing, but even still the milk has been a little crunchy the last couple of mornings. I had to heat up a pot of water, yesterday afternoon, and float the eggs in them before I could crack them to make an omelette for lunch. The crazy thing is that I still couldn't be happier. I actually enjoy it all. Yes, it's definitely ridiculous, but it wasn't my plan to be here at this time of year so I have to make the most of it. I spend my days working on the trailer or the house. I'd love to get another job, but I know that I won't be here much longer so finding work for such a short period of time is tricky. I signed up with a temp agency last month and they found me something pretty quick, but that's when I found out that they don't have any temp work to offer. All their jobs were for permanent positions. Lovely. I'm still going to look for some own my own once the trailer is ready before I hit the road. I'm just doing all the things that need to be done first. The part for the other trailer should arrive tomorrow. Once that's gone, there won't be much more left to do. I finished the rack for the kayak and mountain bike, yesterday. There's countless other things that I'd love to build or work on, but I'll wait until I have a job and money coming in before tackling them. I'm going to miss this little field and the big maple tree I'm parked beside. The moon has been so bright the last few nights that I don't even need a headlamp when I go outside. It's much more beautiful without one.

Misery loves company and happiness is meant to be shared. Which is it? Maybe both statements are true. I think the lesson is that we're social creatures. Above all else, regardless if we're happy or sad, life isn't life without each other. I guess this is the best reason to keep writing. I used to write to save my sanity and maybe even my life when it got that bad. Now, I'm content to work outside all day long in the cold winter rain still alone yet with a dumb smile on my face. I'm not always alone. Maybe once a week, missLuna's German shepherd will make an appearance with missLuna following not far behind. They'll stop for a couple minutes before continuing on their walk that runs the length of the field and into the woods at the far end. Not exactly a busy social life, but I'd be a fool to think it doesn't contribute to my present state even if just a little. I think I've only left the property twice in the last week and only for a few minutes each time. Today it was to bring my recycling to the recycle center in Turners and a few days ago it was to run to the grocery store and grab some milk and a few other things. That's it. The rest of the time I'm happy to spend the day working in the quietness of the winter. Ok, I've had an occasional dance party at night in the house by myself. Not ashamed to confess it. A little embarrassed maybe. Life's too short to not celebrate the simple things whenever you feel the urge.(uploaded 2.19.24)



January 21, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
Walking up the hill this afternoon, it dawned on me why I haven't been working on the book lately. The irony is that the reason is a perfect example of my biggest purpose for writing it in the first place which is to get people to listen to their hearts more than their heads. I've written enough pages over the years to fill a few books, yet I haven't forced myself to finish my first and I'm someone who's forced himself to do plenty of other things so why haven't I completed something that I actually want to do? With the passing of the new year, I've barely written at all in the last three weeks. More irony is that I've never been happier in my life than I am right now. 25 years of hell and back and I've finally arrived. Somebody pinch me. Most people would have given up a long time ago. Most people gave up on me years ago. Girlfriends that said they'd always love me, good friends who believed without a doubt that I'd "make it", family members who once admired me. They, all, eventually had to move on. Wah. As much as it hurt, I don't really blame them. From the outside, there wasn't much evidence that I was getting any closer to an inexplicable goal. All it looked like to them was stubborn idealism and a lot of pointless suffering year after year, but I was making progress. Unfortunately, no one else could see it. No one even understood why I'd taken this path in the first place, but as I held the course year after year I knew that I was learning what a mainstream life could never teach me while still waiting for something. I just didn't know exactly what that something was, but I could feel it and I was sure that I'd know when it arrived. I wasn't passively waiting like one does a bus on a street corner twiddling their thumbs doing nothing. I wasn't sitting on my ass waiting for the world to hand me something. I was waiting like one does shoveling out a barn stall that has layers of straw, hay, shavings and manure packed down so firmly that you'd think it was solid ground if it weren't for the top of the fence protruding out by your feet. Keep digging. You'll eventually hit real dirt a few feet down. That's the kind of waiting you learn by having someone else push you harder than you'd ever pushed yourself like a coach, a teacher, a boss, a competitor, etc. that is until that person walks away, too, and you learn how to push yourself even though you're still waiting for the moment when someone finally says, "Ok, that's enough" but there's no one there to say it so the years keep stacking up one on top of the other like hard packed layers of sh*t.

Looking up the snowy field towards my little house on a sunny Sunday afternoon, I realized what I was waiting for. My ego has always had plenty to say, but that's not who I want speaking for me. My ego is an idiot, and so is yours by the way. I realized that for as honest as I've tried to be in most of my writing, my ego was still doing far too much of the talking.

It was 8 degrees last night and my laptop wouldn't turn on this morning. I knew it had plenty of battery life so I tried to defrost it by placing it by the furnace, but even after it was warm and dry, nothing. I was hoping that if I walked down to the barn where my truck was parked, plugged it into the cigarette lighter and started up the truck, it would come back to life and it did. I was a little worried because I hadn't backed up the book recently so the risk of losing everything I'd written in the last 6 months definitely had my attention. As a matter of fact, I'm going to stop right now and save it. Be right back.

What I realized is that I needed to learn to write a different way, from the heart. This is what I was waiting for. I don't mean from the heart in the sappy way someone (including myself) writes a love letter or an apology. As sincere as it can be, writing like this only uses a small portion of your heart, the part most closely connected to your ego. That's no good. That's still far too much ego. The majority of the heart, yours and mine, has got nothing to do with emotions and everything to do with an intelligence that is far wiser than our crafty little minds. It is part of an all-encompassing knowledge that you and I cannot fathom, yet we can still tap into. I don't know exactly what makes the wind blow, but if I sail properly I can let it carry me to my destination. I didn't know what this place would look like. I only knew what it would feel like. You can't see the wind. You have to feel it. I will give my destination a name, but not yet. I suppose it helps if you're going through hell because anywhere is better than where you presently are and even though I've gone through my own personal moments, that's not why and how I started this journey. I was totally free when I left and full of ambition. I wasn't trying to escape someplace, or so I thought. As outwardly geographic as this path has taken me, I believed that I was trying to reach a destination within myself even if I didn't know exactly where or what that destination was. This is the definition of faith.

How can a hammer build a house? It can't, but a person who knows how to use a hammer can. Are you the hammer or the person? Are you your heart or your ego? We've created this world that we live in, our minds have, but this world didn't create us. It certainly shapes many of our opinions and beliefs, but it didn't create us. An invention can't build an inventor, but "If all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail." Human beings have invented many things, the wheel, the car, the computer, the smartphone and the hammer, but who invented us? The Earth did. Mother Nature did. God, if you're a religious person, did. You were created with a different type of intelligence than your mind or ego can't fathom. If you don't know God, you're playing god. If you don't know Mother Nature, you're playing god with the Earth. We're playing god with the one thing that created us. The very thing that gave us life. How intelligent is this? It makes about as much sense as a hammer trying to build a person. We're just smart enough to be dangerous to one another and to every other living thing on the planet. This doesn't sound like the most highly evolved species to me. Yet, any neuroscientist will tell you that we're only using a very small portion of our brains. Where does this larger portion of intelligence come from? How can we access it? I'll give you one guess.

Manure mixed with the right amount of carbon found in straw, hay and shavings makes the best compost. Compost enriches the soil, one of the building blocks of healthy life. You can't rush this process and my mind, my ego, has been in too much of a hurry to say what it's wanted to say. This is because it was motivated by something other than the truth. Maybe it was pain, fear, desire or loneliness. Regardless of what it was, I could sense that it wasn't coming from an unconditional source and this is where I should be writing from. That unconditional source is my heart. The sun shines on everyone, good, bad, happy or sad. What we do with its warmth and power is up to us.(uploaded 2.19.24)



January 23, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
I should change missFlowerchild's name to "the Temptress." She sent me a pic of her ass in panties, last night, and then another one of her topless, this morning. I haven't heard from her in a month then out of the blue she wants to hook up. I don't have any bad feelings towards her, but I think I'm going to pass. I'm monogamous and she's polyamorous. I don't know how many other guys she's sleeping with. If all I'm interested in is sex, one could say that it's none of my business. "What do you care? Get laid and don't worry about it," I can hear some of my buddies saying. I'll confess that I love sex and she has an amazing body, but I trust my instincts more than my desires and my gut tells me that it's a bad idea. I don't want to hurt her feelings, but if I truly care about her, I should try to be her friend rather than just another guy she's f*cking. If I was weak and wanted to get what I can from whomever I can then I guess I'd be stupid not to jump at the chance, but I'm not weak. I'm happy and this is what happy people do, the right thing. I can't allow a woman who's not doing great drive an hour and a half just to have sex with me and then send her packing the next day. How is that going to help her? She's smoking hot. She can get any guy she wants, but maybe always getting what she wants is the problem. Whatever, she's a grown woman and it's not my job to do her thinking for her, but I'm not going to do something that I don't feel good about. I won't lie. The risk of getting an std is another reason why I'm going to pass. I'm very careful with my body, not because I'm a goody-two-shoes, but because I like being healthy and clean and that's the type of woman I hope to find. I'm trying to decide whether I should even attempt to explain all this to her or just say "No, thanks."

Thank you for the offer. I would love to see you, but I don't know how well you're doing, right now, and I wouldn't feel good about taking advantage of the situation if you're not. I'm so happy and I want you to be happy, too. Giving into physical desires is not going to help this (as good as it would feel in the moment). I wasn't strong enough to resist these temptations when we first met, but after our last time together, I realized that I'm not helping things by just being another guy you're f*cking. You're a very attractive woman with an amazing body. I'm sure there's lots of guys who want to have sex with you. I just can't be one of them. You can always get my attention with your pics, but unfortunately I'm too strong to give in now. However, I will be your friend if you truly want one. I care a great deal about you. (sorry for the long text. I'd much rather talk. You know how to reach me:)(uploaded 2.19.24)



January 24, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
To my relief, missFlowerchild took my text very graciously. She even admitted that I was right, not about her doing poorly. She said she's doing fine, but in regards to her pattern of contacting me out of the blue for hook-ups. For the record, as much as the hopeless romantic in me has resisted arrangements like this for most of my life, there's nothing wrong with it between two single consenting adults. It's a messed up world and many people don't get enough healthy physical touch, which doesn't have to include sex, so if two people find themselves able to give this kind of affection to one another without any drama, God bless 'em. I had to learn this the hard way after years of punishing myself. She was the only person I was doing this with for the three years we saw each other off and on, but once she returned to the polyamorous lifestyle I wasn't going to risk getting an std by continuing anything physical with her. After I was with her last, I got myself checked out. They have home tests you can buy nowadays. They're not cheap, but a clear conscience and knowing I'm healthy is worth it. She still sent me more pics so I had to be more direct yet still gentle and put a stop to it. I'll wait a little while then call and check to see how she's doing. Saying you care about someone doesn't mean jack if you don't follow it up with action.

Today was drizzly and overcast, but mild and pleasant compared to the temperatures of the last week. My happiness is still amazingly maintaining itself and the novelty of its presence has not worn off. I monitor it like one would a cold, but for the opposite reason. I don't want it to leave. It's been a long road to get here so maybe it's a form of diligence to keep a close eye on any risk of losing it, but miraculously I haven't. In fact, it seems to be getting stronger and more enjoyable. Even melting ice on the stove in the morning to then use the warm water to defrost a bottle of olive oil in order to cook frozen eggs is a pleasure not a chore accompanied by laughter and poking fun at myself. I've contemplated how to proceed on my path with this new way of existing. My life isn't much different on the outside, but the inside is night and day. I hope I never take feeling like this for granted. (uploaded 2.19.24)



January 29, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
It's the 29th. The month is almost over and it's been the best month I've had for as long as I can remember. I feel so damn lucky. Nothing significant's happened. It's been outwardly uneventful actually. I've barely left the property and it's been bone-chilling cold plenty of the time, but nevertheless my happiness has remained a steady constant. It just bubbles out of me all day long. I decided to stop what I was doing this afternoon and do some writing. I don't need to write anymore. It's no longer the life line it was for so many years. I almost feel like, now, writing is a way of giving respect to what helped me for such a long time. Plus, I should continue with it regularly. It's good discipline and it will help me with the book. Writing can be a form of work and I like to work so I should stay in the habit of it until I find my tribe or at least some friends who I see more than every few months.

We got some more snow last night so I spent the morning shoveling around the barn and clearing off the big solar panels in the field for missLuna then I left the property to do some grocery shopping and errands. I'm pretty much all done, now, but before I head back I figured it would be good to take advantage of being able to plug my laptop into the cigarette lighter of the yukon so I don't have to worry about the battery wearing down. This is another reason why I haven't written a lot lately. There's a lot less sunny days in the wintertime so my little portable solar system isn't as effective until I upgrade with another battery and some bigger panels, but that's an expense I'm waiting to make once I'm working steady again. As a result, I haven't had the electricity to power my laptop because I haven't been using my truck that much either. I've been writing with a pen in my journal instead. We had a break from the cold the last couple days so the ground is pretty muddy at the moment, but it's supposed to drop back down below freezing tonight so I'll move the small enclosed trailer out of the field and park it by the road to sell it when the ground is hard again. I don't want to move it until then to avoid making muddy ruts in missLuna's field. I installed a brand new spring assembly for the back ramp door last week and I'm almost done emptying it. There's only a few bins and some odds and ends left, but I need to build a loft in the tiny house for those items so I'm going to have to store them outside temporarily until after it sells and I have the money for materials. The bins are plastic with snapping lids so they should be fine.

Right now, I'm parked down the far end of an empty parking lot away from all the strip malls, box stores and cars going way too fast. I should call missButterfly. She called me two days ago out of the blue and left a voicemail, but I haven't called her back yet. I usually do immediately, but this time I stopped myself. The truth is I don't really want to talk to her. I haven't seen or spoken to her in months. I was pretty surprised to even hear from her. There's no hard feelings, but I figured she would have forgotten about me by now. I'm not sure what she wants. The last time I spoke to her was on the phone in early December and she told me repeatedly like she's done every time I've spoken to her that she's not looking for a relationship which is strange because I've never asked her for one. I've never asked her for anything. I've never even asked her out. She's the one who calls me so I don't know why she keeps saying that. The whole thing seems a little odd to me. Maybe she's looking for another hook-up, too, but doesn't want to come right out and say it. I think I'll pass on that as well if that's the case. That was a one time deal under extenuating circumstances. We met last summer, but I still don't feel like we know each other. We've never really hung out or spent any time together other than those two nights. If I wanted to get to know her, I would ask her out, but I unfortunately don't so I haven't. It's not that I don't have a lot of respect for her. I admire how she and her husband were living and raising their children, but she's never showed any interest in wanting to get to know me so I've just left it alone. Like I told myself when I first met her and learned of her situation, there's no way I'm going to be cavalier or irresponsible with someone who's been through what she's been through. I've told her that she can always call me if she ever needs a friend or someone to talk to, but she hasn't. She only calls to invite me to parties than keeps her distance the entire time. She has lots of friends and family so maybe she doesn't need another friend. Again, this is why I've left it alone. Anyways, I'm a little perplexed about hearing from her so rather than call, now, I think I'm going to wait until the enclosed trailer is sold which should be this week then I can use the money to make a few improvements to the tiny house like installing a bathroom in case of the rare possibility that I do have a guest. The finished house is going to have a big kitchen and a lavish bathroom by tiny house standards, but I needed a place to live this winter when it started getting cold so these extravagances didn't make the cut until spring when the temperatures are milder so I can open up the wall to make the house longer. For now, it's cowboy baths and a compost toilet which is fine for this vagabond, but I wouldn't feel comfortable having a female guest with such rustic amenities. (uploaded 2.19.24)



January 31, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
I'm not sure what's going on. As December was coming to an end, I noticed a change. I was happier more often than usual. By New Year's Day, I was waking up with a "Whoohoo!" Literally. I actually said it out loud as I got out of bed on Jan.1st. I couldn't believe what was happening. Day after day all through the month of January, I became happier and happier. When you've been through hell and back and you experience this much prolonged happiness, it's a little surreal, but on the other hand, it feels right and natural. It's a crazy experience. For most people, no matter how difficult a person's life has been, they can recall at least a few happy memories, maybe from childhood. As we get older, many can remember being young and having older people tell us "You don't know how lucky you are." Hearing this all the time when we're young gets old, no pun intended, but they were right. I didn't know how lucky I was back then. I do now. I could barely stop smiling for practically the entire month. Then around the 30th, things began to slip. For the days that followed, it got worse and worse and I couldn't figure out why.

Today, I was working outside and went to move a plastic bin of miscellaneous tools and hardware that I keep stored on the ground under the tiny house trailer. I knew to be careful pulling it out because sometimes the bins will freeze to the ground so I have to be delicate when I break them free and give them a tug in order to pop off the lid and get whatever it is I'm looking for. I've done it a hundred times this winter. Today, I was hurrying for no reason whatsoever. I didn't need to be anywhere. It was beautiful and sunny and I was planning on spending the entire day up in the field working. It was cold, but I was dressed for it. There's no valid reason why I impatiently squatted down and kicked the bin to break it free before trying to pull it out. It smashed into pieces. In my anger, I slammed the cordless drill I was holding on top of the bin sitting beside the one I just kicked and cracked the lid on that one, too. F-bomb after f-bomb I yelled as I stormed around in the snow likean idiot trying to calm down furious with myself all the while cursing how cheaply the plastic is to break so easily, but I knew better. My own stupidity was the real source of my anger, but why? Where did my new found happiness go?

Making improvements to my living conditions definitely improved my mental well-being. The tiny house became weather tight and livable. That's huge. Then I had heat and a full size bed, a stove to cook on, a bath tub to wash up in and I was still surrounded by nature. I was in heaven. But with time ticking away, my finances are getting too low for comfort as I'm buying one thing or another to continue working on the house and I'm starting to feel trapped.(uploaded 2.19.24)



February 4, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
I picked up a couple days work this week out of nowhere. A guy responding to one of my fliers that I posted in December texted me and he says that he's got plenty more work if I want it. When I was washing the tires and rims on the little trailer to make it more presentable, the valve stem broke on one of the tires when I barely touched it with a sponge probably because it was so cold out so I had to fix a flat tire before I could move it, but that's all done and it's down by the road beside the barn this afternoon so whoever buys it can back up and take it away. It's nice to be up here in the field with just one trailer even if it has a lot of stuff under and around it. I spent the rest of the day reorganizing everything.

Sitting in my truck on Friday after work in downtown Greenfield not wanting to go home yet, but not wanting to go out either, I finally figured out what happened. It makes perfect sense, but it took me a few days to see it. It's the exact same reason why I began to feel liberated and more myself last spring when I was cleaning out the house in Marshfield. Right now, I have too much stuff. Plain and simple. There's no big mysterious reason or something so deep that you'd have to be a monk to understand, just too much g'damn stuff.

Last weekend, I began cleaning out the remainder of what was in the small enclosed trailer beside my tiny house and by Monday I had finished emptying it. That was the 29th. I had bins and things everywhere, on the back of the trailer, under the kayak rack, under the trailer on the ground, in the tiny house, under my bed, on my bed and anywhere else I could stuff something. My simple existence had become a cluttered mess. I felt like I was living on a small island and the tide began coming in making my island even smaller until I had no place to even stand. Feeling trapped is the opposite of feeling free and this is what happened by losing my storage space. It's not the end of the world. Once the trailer sells, I'll have enough money to buy some lumber to build a loft inside the tiny house and a little shed on the back of the trailer. This will give me the space I need. Whatever else doesn't fit has got to go. (uploaded 2.19.24)



February 8, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
I'm still in the thick of it right back to trying to survive everyday. I get temporary glimpses of how it felt not too long ago like when I walked up the hill this morning with the deep cycle battery and my backpack solar panel to set up my little charging system on a bright sunny day like today. We've had three in a row this week so I'm soaking it in, but unfortunately my patience is shot. I'm quick to anger and I'm waking up over the grand canyon every morning, again. The only consolation is that I've got the whole month of January to refer to so I can hang onto the hope that once I sell the enclosed trailer and get paid by the guy who I did some work for last week I'll be right back where I left off.

For the time being, I'm in a slight holding pattern so I'm trying to figure out which projects I can tackle, today, without spending any money. There's plenty to do, but I don't want to just kill time with something cosmetic like adding more small blocks of wood to the jigsaw design I built my front door with. That's a fun task that I can do in my leisure anytime anywhere. The door works the way it is.

I could mount a light switch to the wall inside the tiny house. Up til now, I've just been plugging in the one light I have to turn it on because it's mounted on the wall up high close to the ceiling, but a switch would be a little more civilized. Waiting to do little stuff like this until spring when I make the house bigger seems like a form of procrastination.(uploaded 2.19.24)



February 9, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
Sold the enclosed trailer, yesterday. I bought and installed a new jack for it, first. The old one was a pain in the butt to crank. Then, I posted it for sale online that night, spent all morning answering emails and it was sold by the afternoon. The first guy who came and looked at it after walking around it and then inside after we opened both ramp doors handed me my asking price without even a conversation about the amount. I handed him a hundred dollars back for good karma, but he wouldn't take it. We both just laughed. I guess all the work I did over the last couple weeks paid off. I gave him the manuals to the new parts and we shot the breeze for a few minutes about other things, Maine, snow mobiling, work, then we thanked one another and said "Take care."

I'm still way too excited about the light switch I wired and mounted in the tiny house, yesterday, while I was waiting for him to get here. I feel so civilized. Watched a youtube video on how to darn socks then mended a few of my big wool ones that had holes in them this morning and now it's time to make a to-do list in order of importance for what I should work on next. I've been neglecting the book mostly because I've been preoccupied with necessities like keeping warm and finding work, but with the trailer sold the money takes off the pressure for a little while so I can take a breath. I've got to head to work in a few minutes, but only for a half day. I texted the guy about settling up because he still owes me for last week and he asked me if I had some time today so I'll go by the big industrial warehouse that he's renovating, grab my check and put in a few more hours.

No grand canyon this morning. Just like that. I still have storage space to build into the tiny house to get what's under the trailer onto the trailer, but all in due time and I've bought myself the time.

Called missFlowerchild when I got out of work to see how she's doing. She was surprised, but very happy to hear from me. She wants me to come visit next weekend and do some winter work on her and her sister's property cutting back the thistles along the edge of their field before everything starts growing in the spring and then go into Boston with her for the New Year's celebration in Chinatown (their new year is later because it correlates with the winter moon cycle so lots of hippies attend the festivities apparently). I'm not sure about all that. She was actually in Montague, today, visiting her "friend". I think it's an actual friend, an older woman who's not feeling well, but I'm not sure. The fact that she didn't say "Hi" again while she was here makes me think that me driving an hour and a half to where she lives to do a bunch of work for her seems a little much, but I'll think about it.(uploaded 2.19.24)



February, 13, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
I'm still keeping my phone off most days, but I had plenty of slips in the beginning of the month. I gave in and resorted to distracting myself by watching youtube videos or researching possible places to live online when the grand canyon sucked me in every morning and followed me around all day. The monumental difference between now and all the previous years that I've moved from place to place hoping that it will be different "this time" is that now I know what it's like to conquer loneliness. For almost the entire month of January, I rode a continuous high that I've never experienced before. It wasn't a fleeting glimpse that departed as quickly as it arrived. It was constant. It was my default mood throughout the entire day including the mornings. Yes, including the morning. I honestly thought I had finally arrived and I was almost right, but not quite. That euphoric feeling slipped out of my hands and I was right back to white-knuckling it all day long and waking up every morning to a dark cloud of dread that I had to push through to get the ball rolling and be productive. Because it's an existence that I know all too well, it wasn't difficult for me to adjust to it even though for those 5 or 6 days I was perplexed as to why I had lost my new found serenity, but now I know exactly what to do in order to get it back. It's not going to happen over night, but I'm almost back to where I was earlier this year and I'm chipping away at the projects that'll make me self-contained and then we'll see what happens.(uploaded 2.19.24)



February 18, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
What a relief. For the past couple days, I've been dreading the conversation I just had, but it's over now. I just got off the phone with her. I feel so light and free. Thank God. On the other hand, I feel bad, too, because she may not be feeling as good, but, unfortunately, it's a situation that I can't get involved in. I'm not the one who created it. Way too complicated.

In the mornings, I turn my phone on for a few minutes to check for messages. I usually don't have any, but on Wednesday morning I got another voicemail from missButterfly. She called around 7:30am which seemed a little early and I felt bad about taking so long to call her back last month which was over a week and I only left a quick voicemail that this time I called her back that day. She invited me to a sauna/potluck she was having in the evening. I hesitated and stalled a little asking her what time she was planning on having it. Around 5. I told her that I might be working and we usually don't finish until 6 which was somewhat true, but honestly I didn't really want to go. I was tired of the guessing game with her. Plus, I had stuff to do which I didn't get to the previous day because the guy I've been helping out texted me that morning and asked if I could come in and work. I didn't feel like rearranging my schedule, again, on short notice. She told me that even if I can't make it over for the sauna I was welcome to join them for the potluck afterwards and we left it at that. I didn't really want to go, but while I worked all afternoon it dawned on me that it was Valentine's day. Even though it's a joke of a holiday, I eventually came to the conclusion that I'd be a dumbass if I didn't go. "When a pretty girl invites you to come take a sauna with her on Valentine's Day, you go, moron."

The evening was fairly uneventful. Like a ding-dong, I got there late and missed the sauna. By the time I was done working on my projects for the day, got cleaned up and ran to the store to grab some stuff to bring, it was around 6. They were already sitting down eating when I got there. It was all women. I felt like I was intruding actually because they all looked pretty surprised to see me when I walked in. For a second, I thought maybe I misunderstood what night she was having it, but she hugged me when she saw me and assured me that it was the right evening. She told me I could still take a steam if I wanted. The sauna was still going and her neighbor, an older gentlman, was using it. I haven't done a lot of saunas especially when they entail getting naked with perfect strangers and I've stepped out of my comfort zone plenty of times when it comes to attending things she's invited me to so I opted to just sit down and join them. Getting to be around people and have some dinner was good enough.

After everyone left, I lingered a little to help clean up then missButterfly showed me a book that reminded her of me. I'd never heard of it, but the image on the cover was the exact same photograph of a cabin on a lake in the mountains that I've kept in my phone and laptop for years sort of for inspiration of where I want to spend the rest of my life. Interesting. Dragonfly and Firefly were still up and we began goofing around in the kitchen and playing games. I could tell that my being there was only going to prolong the kids going to bed so I said "Good night" and headed home. Still have no idea what she wants from me.

Two days later I got another voicemail. This time she was inviting me to go ice skating with them. She learned I was a hockey player earlier this winter.

First of all, I'm not telling a story. I'm trying to process what happened and this is the only way I can seeing as I don't have anyone to talk to #orbitless , but if this is going to be of any use I need to back up and include what happened in late November the night after I had my little moment on the roof in the rain. I detest drama and this is why I've refused to write about it or maybe it's just my pride because I don't like being made a fool, but what happened that night is a major reason why I've decided to pass on anymore of her invitations. I know she's been through a lot and I've tried to be understanding and flexible, but I can't allow myself to be played even if she doesn't realize that's what she's doing. I've had a hard time believing she doesn't, but I've still been patient and open-minded with her.

I can't believe I'm going to waste my time writing about such nonsense, but I need to move forward with a clear head. That night on the roof when I, yet again, resolved to stop spending so much time alone, I decided to go out the following night after working on the house all day to grab a hot meal and be around people for a little while. I choose to be trusting and somewhat naive. It's a conscious choice, not a clueless mistake. I'd rather give people the benefit of the doubt than become cynical and jaded, that is until they make it clear that continuing to trust them would not be wise. It's not about judging others. It's simply about assessing what kind of situations I put myself in. Being able to take people for their word is the kind of world I want to live in so that's how I treat them. Maybe this is why I live the way I do because living deeper within the system makes it harder to trust what's going on in the world. The planet and the world are not the same thing. The planet is this big beautiful rock with an ecosystem thriving on it. The world is what we've created on top of this.

Anyways, I can barely get through a play by play, but the blunt version is that when I went out that night I ended up bumping into a guy who I recognized from the bonfire parties that missButterfly kept inviting me to last summer. He was one of the dudes hanging out in her driveway when she jumped my bones the night before I left for Costa Rica. He was now livng with her. I remembered his name and invited him to join me for dinner before learning this. Turns out he wasn't alone. She was on her way there, too. When he told me this, I tried to get out of it telling him that I didn't want to impose on their dinner together, but he wouldn't hear of it. This poor sap who I could tell really liked her had no idea about me. Sorry, I shouldn't call him that, but I'd call myself one if I was in his shoes. He had her son with him and she was around the corner at gymnastics class with her daughter and they'd be right over. I should have just left, but I chose to be naive. I didn't care that they were now in a relationship. More power to him. He put in the time and wanted to be with her. I had my doubts all along and never pursued that possibility. You snooze, you lose. No worries.

When she arrived, she gave me a big hug and sat on my side of the booth with her daughter because her son was on the other side with mr.Man-bun. He and I had a cool conversation before she got there. He even asked me for my contact info so we could keep in touch. By the end of the night, I'm pretty sure he'll never use it. I was polite and social all through dinner. We had fun with the kids and even played a board game right on the table that missButterfly broke out of her bag after we ate. The kids' grandmother was across the room having dinner with some friends so they ran back and forth visiting with her. It was a nice night, but I had to basically lie for missButterfly and not let on that there was anything between us. I'm not trying to sound self-righteous, but this is just not the kind of person I want to be. I didn't care that they were together, but I'm pretty sure he would've if he knew about me. The poor guy was starting to get flustered by the end of the night because we were all having a little too much fun. She would've hugged me, again, before I left, but I wished everyone a nice holiday and got the heck out of there as quickly as possible.

Hopping in my truck and heading back to my freezing ass field sucked, not because he got the girl and I didn't. He could have her, but having to be fake for 2 hours and then return to my lonely existence feeling worse than when I left was a kick in the gut. The grand canyon swallowed me whole as soon as I walked out of the restaurant and stepped onto the sidewalk. I could hear her saying something to me as I was falling into it, but she was behind me by the entrance and I didn't stop to listen. I just looked back, waved and said "Take care." I hate drama and I could've made a bunch of it that night. I could've made some last fall, too, when she invited me to another bonfire potluck after I got back from Costa Rica because no one knew about us so I played it cool to be considerate of her situation. Why did she keep calling me and telling me she wasn't looking for a relationship? I never asked her for one. I never even called her except to be polite when she called me. Anyways, going out that night definitely wasn't a cure for loneliness, but I got over it and focused on the things I needed to do.

Then she calls me a week and a half later and invites me to go to a hockey game with her and her brother. I confessed that I played the sport for the better part of my life, but politely passed on joining them. I didn't even bring up the whole dinner thing. It's none of my business. She doesn't have to explain herself to me. I still barely knew her. She can get involved with whoever she wants. I just didn't want to get mixed up in it.

So that was last year, I came out on the other side doing awesome and I'm keeping it that way. Needless to say, this is why I wasn't eager to call her back in January when she called, again. At this point, I didn't know the details of her relationship with mr.Man-bun. I just knew that he was living there with them and naively left the possibility open that they were just friends, but I'm not stupid. Like I said, it's none of my business.

After I went skating with her and the kids, after she invited me to come in and have dinner with them, after dinner when we all watched a movie together, after the kids were in bed, after she asked me to join her downstairs on the couch and after we hooked up, she made it my business. This is when I found out everything. Man-bun was no where to be found, but it's interesting that she waited to tell me that they were more than just friends after all this. That they were sleeping together. Wtf. Time to go.

I didn't overreact. In fact, I barely reacted at all. I sat there and listened patiently. She was on top of me. What was I going to do, stand up and let her fall on the floor? She explained that it didn't work out between them because she's not looking for a relationship so he moved back to Pennsylvania, but he still calls and wants to come visit. I didn't bother stating the obvious that having someone live with you who you're sleeping with is a relationship or that sleeping with someone who was previously sleeping with one of your best friends while they were living on the property of one of your other best friends might create a little drama. I had no right to be upset. I'm a big boy. If it was that important to me, I should have made us talk before we did anything. We didn't go all the way, but came as close as possible. When I was convinced that she was done telling me everything that she wanted me to know, I politely said "Good night." She told me that the ball was in my court. Tonight, I called and we talked. I gently told her that it just wasn't a situation that I can get involved in. (uploaded 2.19.24)



February 19, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
Well, all alone, again, and I'm actually relieved about this. I finished the porch on the outside of the tiny house this weekend which I had to complete before I can build the little shed. I love it. The fact that it's been super sunny the past few days certainly helps. I can set up some chairs and have little cook-outs out there. I could even turn the porch into a small greenhouse which would allow me to grow some veggies and this would passively warm up the house, too. We'll see. First, I need to get some rigid foam insulation so I can panel the interior walls in the section where I'm going to build the loft and small bathroom. The rest of the walls can wait til spring. Priority one is being organized and self-contained.

I, also, need to upload this year's blog. I can't believe it's almost the end of February. As good as things are, right now, I should be feeling even better and I think it's because I haven't been using this resource for the purpose I created it years ago. It's gotten me this far. I shouldn't abandon it now that I'm doing well and so close to my "destination." I thought maybe I was done needing it after having such an amazing January, but recent developments have required me to clear my head and this is the most effective way I know how under the circumstances. I went for a long jog on the trails in the woods, yesterday, and tried to run it out, but that didn't work so I guess I should write.

I realize now that I was approaching the problem of loneliness the wrong way, but a few months ago, on a cold night in November, I was still trying to fix it the old way. Surprisingly, finding people to be around isn't the answer. I still need to do this, but it's not going to fix me. Only I can do that, not that there's anything wrong with me or anyone else who battles loneliness. Some of us just didn't grow up in close families. Being around other positive, healthy people who want to live like I do is still my goal, but I need to approach it from a place of giving, not taking. A place of offering, not asking. If we don't know how to make ourselves happy as individuals, we'll only try to take from others when we have them at our disposal whether we're conscious of this or not. I want to be a giver, not a taker.

Giving is better. MissButterfly gave me a book to borrow the night I went to the sauna potluck last week, but she wanted to make sure that I'd return it so I bought her, Dragonfly and Firefly some books and I'm going to leave them along with the one she lent me by her mailbox. I'll do it in a fun way. Of course, I'll put them in a plastic bag to keep them dry, but I checked the weather and it's not supposed to rain or snow for the next couple days. I'll make a card and in it will be a little map so they'll have to find the books hidden among the trees not far from the row of mailboxes down the wooded dirt road near their driveway. It'll be like a scavenger hunt. I think the kids will really like it. I hope they will.



March 4, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
There are two ways to look at a situation.

As I was typing the previous entry, someone knocked on my door, the door on this tiny shed of a house built on a long flatbed trailer parked in the middle of a field completely out of sight from anyone. I was about to have my first guest. It was a bright sunny day so when I looked up I could see her face through the little window of the door. Would it be a cliche to say that "I got butterflies"? It felt like a dream, one that I didn't know was possible. MissButterfly was standing on my porch. The few minutes that followed were the best few minutes I've experience in a very long time. I don't remember exactly what came out of my mouth. It wasn't much. I just know that I had a giant smile on my face and laughed a little when I said "Come on in."

It was the middle of the afternoon on a beautiful day, but I had to get a lot of writing done so I was lying on my bed in work clothes with my boots off and the laptop on my belly. She opened the door and softly said "Hi" a she walked in, crossed the little room and climbed into bed with me. I wrapped my arms around her and just held her. It was the best feeling in the world. Again, I don't remember exactly what else was said. I know she gave me a hard time about being indoors on such a nice day which I agreed with and I gave her a hard time about being in my house before it was ready for visitors. We lay there and soaked in the feeling. As the moment started going in a different direction, I said that we should probably get up and take a walk or sit outside on the porch. I pulled out my beach chair for her to sit in, the chair on which a friendly little butterfly landed last summer which now had turned into the attractive woman sitting in front of me. The sun was bright, but there was a cool breeze so after a minute we decided to take a walk on the Robert Frost Trail that winds past the field to warm up stopping occasionally to hug.

I knew that I told her the situation I learned about two nights prior was one that I couldn't get involved in, but for right now I was letting us both enjoy this time together. There are definitely more than two ways to look at any situation especially when there's more than one person involved in it, but I can't speak for her. In my own way, I can choose to appreciate this unexpected gift, keep it, protect it and not let anything like a jaded reality suck the magic out of it. I failed at doing this a year ago, but I can do it now which is why I chose to write about it the way I just did. However, if I stop and think long enough, I can look at it another way, too, and accept that maybe she came to visit more to explain herself than to show me that she cares about me and possibly to have sex which we did have when we got back after she assured me that her previous relationship was over and done with. I haven't seen or heard from her since. She might not care about me. She might just want me occasionally and that's it. Wah. "Poor baby, an attractive woman wants to sleep with you." I shouldn't say that I haven't heard from her. Firefly, who is four, called and left a voicemail thanking me for his book. I'm pretty sure he didn't find my number and call me himself. Of course, I called them right back when I got the message, but she was busy and told me that she'd call me that evening, but I never heard from her. That was over a week ago.

All she has is a landline, no cell phone, which I admire and mine is always off. This somewhat limits our ability to communicate, but this is no obstacle for two people who want to talk and keep in touch. There's always a way for those who want to find one. My primary concern has always been the same from the beginning which is to not hurt her. She and the children have been through enough. On our walk I shared that I've done plenty of volunteering with kids and have been a "Big Brother" to three different boys. I wasn't dating any of their mothers or anything like that. I met each of them in different ways, one at a church I was attending for a little while and the other on a farm I was working on. The third boy was a little older and a ward of the state. I met him through a play I was acting in. He was only 15 and an extra, but a brilliant kid and I took him under my wing. I was 25. The 10 year difference gets a lot smaller as time goes by. He's married with a family of his own now. I told missButterfly how I shared my concern with these mothers about the fact that I travel so much and that this might effect or hurt their sons? I remember how one of the mothers explained it best. She told me that as long as I keep my word and do what I say I'm going to do, that's all that matters. He, her son, has to learn like we all do that people have their own lives, but this doesn't mean that we can't spend meaningful time together when we have the chance. This put me at ease and her son and I who was 8 when I met them spent lots of meaningful time together up through high school graduation and beyond.

After four days had passed, it hit me that missButterfly told me her email address during one of our conversations and I remembered it. I definitely chalk this up to not having my phone on all the time. Smartphones obliterate a person's short term memory. I thought an email would be the most unintrusive way to let her know that I was thinking about her and hoping she was doing ok. I can't sleep with someone and then not talk to them for over a week. It wasn't like I was all mixed up and needed to talk to her. I was fine. It just didn't feel right. If there's a chance that she could interpret the silence as me not caring about her, I was going to find a way to show her that I do so I emailed her around 9:30 on Thursday night. She responded at 1am that same night and thanked me. She told me that she was having a hard time and wasn't ready to talk, but would call me when she was. I woke up at 5 and replied "Ok", but told her not to feel obligated. Hearing that she's not doing good bothers me which I, also, told her, but I have no idea what she's having a hard time about. She didn't say. It could be about us or it could be about a million other things. I know she was having some difficulties with the state regarding home-schooling guidelines. She doesn't agree with their bureaucracy and told them so. Maybe that's what it was. I can't force her to tell me. Attempting this would only add yet another thing to everything else she has to deal with. I just had to let her know I was available and created another line of communication to use if she chooses to.

I know I could help her. Not to sound arrogant, but I know I could. However, this would require a conversation which both people have to want. I could, also, be a lot more proactive and take charge of the situation, but I should only do this if I want to be with her for the long haul. Otherwise, this would be selfish and only hurt her in the end and, unfortunately, I won't be here much longer. This situation isn't about me. Maybe it's using me in a way I don't understand. Or, maybe she just wanted sex. To be honest, it wasn't that good. We still don't know each other well enough. Without a real connection, I'd rather just jerk off. Less drama. She and I are intelligent people. We can't act dumb just to get some. At least, I can't. Plus, we only had a few minutes. I've got nothing against a quickie. They're hot, but they're for after a foundation is already laid down -no pun intended. That's why they're called a "quickie" because normally you take more time. You don't build a relationship on one. I know she's said countless times that she's not looking for a serious relationship, but even a friends-with-benefits requires a foundation. Otherwise, it's just casual sex which is empty to me. Even missFlowerchild and I hung out a few times just the two of us before we went all the way. There's plenty of men out there who will screw anything that moves. If that is all she wants, perhaps she'd be better off with one of them. It won't be that good with them either, but after a while maybe she'll be able to work through things to understand what she needs. I don't know.



March 7, 2024, Nashville, Tennessee
I'm hanging out in my hotel room waiting for mr.Model's flight to arrive from LA. It's always surreal suddenly finding myself surrounded by so many creature comforts living the way I do.

I'm glad that I used writing to gain some perspective on how to handle things with missButterfly. Granted, I sounded like an idealistic jerk at times, but better here than in real life. In my interactions with her, I've been very understanding and supportive. I'd almost go so far as to say that I'm proud of myself. It feels amazing to be so calm and non-reactional. Compared to last year's Valentine's Day experience, I'm like a different person. Holding the course all these years is actually paying dividends. Who would've thought?

Never heard back from her, but she won't be getting any rocks in the mail from me. Mine is sitting on my desk and that's where it's staying. What a jack ass. Live, learn and become a better person. That's all I can do. I hope she's doing ok. The spot on my porch just outside my door seems a little sunnier now. I even had her pick out a block of wood and sign it so I could add it to my jigsaw puzzle of a front door when she was here. Obviously, I've had some serious issues when it comes to how women have affected me in the past. Getting a crush on a pretty bartender who smiled at me should have told me this. The fact that I was so moved by a woman stopping by to see me, a woman who hasn't exactly been considerate of me, speaks to how starved I've been all these years for female affection. MissButterfly gets a pass, however. Losing the love of her life in such a tragic way must have been absolutely devastating. Trying to figure out how to proceed with the rest of her life must be confusing. I wish I could do more for her, but my instincts tell me to keep a healthy distance. I'll say a prayer for her.



March 13, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
Ahh, back in the field. It feels so good. Home sweet home. I know that's a corny expression, but I don't care. This is my little haven. I'm sure the fact that it's a perfect spring day is contributing to the feeling on top of the fact that I don't like flying and there are no more flights in my immediate future, on top of the fact that I had about 30 gallons of maple sap waiting for me and on top of the fact that someone drew a butterfly on my door while I was gone. No note, no voicemail, no email. Just a perfectly drawn butterfly on one of the wooden blocks attached to my door. She knows I call her this. It's been two weeks since I've heard from her. MissLuna told me that she was here earlier this afternoon. I'm not sure exactly what it means, but it's nice to know that she came by.

Inconveniently, I've got to turn around and head back to the coast because I told mr.Striper that I'd grab lunch with him. I've felt bad because he occasionally texts me asking when I'll be on the south shore again and I've kept telling him that I'll be sure to come back before leaving the area for good so when he happened to text me while I was at Logan waiting for my flight to Nashville, I promised that I'd let him know as soon as I got back and we'd make a plan. He took it hard when we lost our best friend almost 20 years ago. After it happened, he walked for charities, started a scholarship and organized an annual fishing tournament to raise money in memory of our friend so he occupies a soft spot in my heart, the big pain in the ass. He's got three kids and two jobs, now, so he definitely can't be as spontaneous as me so when I texted him, yesterday, and he couldn't meet until Friday or Saturday, I told him that was fine. I didn't tell him that I'd be making the 2 and a half hour trip back to the coast just for him. I'll move the stove onto the porch before I leave and get that ball rolling, too.

I, also, need to go by the job site where I've been working because the guy has been dragging his feet about paying me. He threw a little temper tantrum when I told him I was heading to Tennessee and wouldn't be around last week. Our arrangement was that he'd text me to see if I was available to work and I'd tell him if I was. It's been fine. A day here, a couple days there. Some weeks I wouldn't even hear from him, but then he rented a piece of equipment without asking me first and got mad at me for not being available. Real smart. We only communicate by text, but he owes me a fair amount of money so I'm going there in person to look him in the eye.



March 18, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
The Bridgeway, the Voyage, Tinker's Son, the Hibernian Tavern and TK O'Malley's. I went out for lunch with mr.Striper. Ten hours and five Irish bars later, we finally called it a night. I hadn't anticipated that it was going to be St.Patrick's Day this weekend and they say that Marshfield and Scituate have more Irish people per capita than Boston or Chicago. I don't know if this is true, but we've definitely got a boat load, no pun intended. We're two of them. Luckily, I've out grown the whole drinking thing so I mixed in plenty of ice teas and waters over the course of our pub crawl. Had fun, made some new friends and most importantly mr.Striper had a good time.

Picked up another battery and a big solar panel on my way back. Now, I can type on this laptop without worrying about the power running out. I got my check before heading for the coast. He was all smiles and acted like nothing happened.

While I had my phone on making arrangements with the guy who I was buying the solar panel from, missButterfly called. I hadn't decided how I was going to proceed with her, but she beat me to it and asked if I'd come by and help her with her phone which I offered to do the last time we spoke. Ever since the lightening strike in the summer, her landline has been very staticky to the point that I can barely hear what she's saying when I'm talking to her. Now, her phone wasn't even ringing when someone calls and the answering machine wasn't picking up either so she said that she wasn't sure if I tried calling her. I'm not sure why she thought I would. The last I heard from her, she told me that she wasn't ready to talk. I told her I'd look at her phone for her when I got back. She called again this morning and left a message that she'd be home alone all day. Interesting.

When I first arrived, she and I talked on the couch for a few minutes before tackling the phone situation. It was nice. We held each other and kissed a little, but I didn't let it go any further. After about six trips down her long steep driveway to the telephone poll at the bottom and back, I got the phone to ring and the answering machine to work. We worked on it together which was fun. She actually held my hand as we were walking up the driveway at one point. Interesting. It took longer than we expected and she had to leave to pick up the kids so I stayed and finished working on it by myself. I had her call me before she left and I could hear her a little better, but the static was still there. Not many people have landlines anymore so when the phone company came out last summer to fix it, they did a pretty half-assed job. They pulled out the entire junction box at the poll and just spliced two wires together. She called them, today, and they gave her the run around so she's going to have to call, again, tomorrow to make them do their job.

She wanted me to come meet her and the kids, tonight, at Dragonfly's gymnastics class and then get pizza afterwards, but that felt a little too similar to a night last November when things were a lot different so I passed. This doesn't feel like someone who's not looking for a relationship. Plus, I need to write mr.Model a thorough email to follow up on the work we did in Tennessee.



March 19, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
I've got all 4 burners going on the gas stove. One large roasting pan big enough to fit a whole turkey covers two of the burners at a time so I've got two roasting pans covering the whole stove top, but they don't have turkeys in them. They are full of maple sap. The first thing I did was move the stove outside onto the porch otherwise the walls of my tiny house would be brown and sticky when I was done. It smells so good that I'm not sure I'd mind, but it probably wouldn't look too attractive hence the invention of the sugar shack. The inside of those little buildings are pretty unsightly, but they smell delicious. Sweet steam is roaring off the pans, right now. It's a fun, but somewhat time consuming task so I figured I'd do some writing. I've got plenty to catch up on and a lot of sap to process. I had no idea I'd get so much from only one tree, but it's a healthy monstrous tree.

I got a long email from mr.Model in response to mine, but I haven't read it yet. I feel bad about this, but I explained in mine that I needed to take a break from his project. I was all talked out when I left Tennessee. Well, all listened out. He did most of the talking. We had a lot of things to get done for the week and he didn't have a single image, sketch or blueprint of what he wanted to accomplish which he's had months to prepare for. Instead, he wanted to stop every hour or so and talk his way through a plan. When a person complains everyday about the battery in their phone being dead even though they have a car with a cigarette charger available to them 24/7, not to mention a simple solar charger that I set up for them, we're just not a good fit. I knew it was going to be a challenge so I approached it as if I was spending time with one of my "little brothers" and it turned out to be a productive five days, but five days that I have no desire to ever repeat, yet successful in his eyes nonetheless and I can live with that. Honestly, the whole venture has been a source of anxiety for me since he started calling two years ago pitching the idea, but after checking out Costa Rica and realizing that living down there wasn't something I was interested in I thought I should, at least, entertain his proposal before returning to my solitary path. It quickly became apparent that we wanted different things so I made it clear that I wasn't interested in being partners, but that I'd still try to help him in any way I could.

I arrived on Thurs and left on Tues. I had planned to stay for the entire week and leave after the following weekend, but he kept changing his mind. I'm not a big fan of flying and told him that I wasn't interested in coming down just for a weekend so he asked if I'd be open to staying for the whole week and work by myself while he was in LA for an acting gig. He'd pay me for the week then he'd fly back the following weekend and we could work together some more. Working on his land by myself felt a little weird, but I just looked at it like any other work gig so staying for the whole week made more sense and was the only reason I agreed to fly down then when I arrived the first day he asked if I'd be willing to fly back that weekend. I wasn't thrilled about this, but I was already there so I said "Ok" then before the weekend was over he wanted to talk about me staying the whole week again. My time is very valuable to me and I don't like being jerked around, but I never once lost my temper or even expressed a negative thought. I just decided to make the decision for him and told him that I'd be leaving when he left on Tues. I even looked at the greyhound bus schedule, but he insisted on buying me a plane ticket.

The first thing I told him when we started looking at land last fall was make sure that it has water on it. This is rule no.1, 2 and 3 when buying property to farm or homestead on. This land doesn't, but he was told that when the area gets a lot of rain, a creek forms in the bottom of the wooded ravines on the property. After we looked at it in January and found no water, just a dry creek bed, I told him that I wouldn't buy it if I was him, but he bought it anyway. I was still happy for him, but made it clear that I wasn't interested in living there.

We camped in tents some nights and stayed in motels on the others when he wanted a shower. I brought my tent with me and his cousin drove over from North Carolina to help for a couple days and gave mr.Model one of his tents along with lots of tools and a small, rugged, utility trailer. His cousin drove back to NC on Sunday morning and mr.Model and I finished up around 11pm Monday night. Then I drove us the hour and a half back to Nashville because he was too baked to get behind the wheel. Smoking pot throughout the day doesn't mix well with working when there are a lot of discussions necessary and decisions to be made and he knows I don't smoke, but I kept my mouth shut. This was his party not mine. Like I said, he was very happy with what we got accomplished. We cleared a lot of land to prepare for decks to be built which the geodesic domes he bought will be assembled on. He wants to use the property for an off the grid glamping sight. I'm not a glamper. I'm a farmer. The fact that he doesn't get why I don't want to spend the next 6 months building this for him just shows how different we are, but there's no hard feelings, at least not from me. It seems like he doesn't want to spring for having a well drilled, no pun intended, so I drew up a bunch of diagrams and emailed them to him last night showing how to set up the automated solar water pump system that he asked me to design which I collected all the components for while I was there. It's pretty slick actually and will only turn on when it rains enough to fill the creek setting off a float switch wired to a 12 volt pump. I'll still try to help him when I can, but I'm not going to do the work for him.

I've always had the same goal for as long as I can remember, decades, not a couple years, which is to buy a big piece of land and create a working model of a more sustainable life where other people can come live on it with me in an environment that doesn't revolve around money, but rather people and the ecosystem that gives us all life. This has been my dream. Long before living off the grid, tiny houses, van life or intentional communities ever became the latest flavor of the month, this is what I've been working towards. I'm glad that living sustainably has become so popular and I hope to find others who believe in it as much as I do.

Just before I left for Tennessee, I asked missLuna if I could tap the giant maple that I share this field with and she thought it was a great idea. Before asking her, I researched weather tapping hurts the tree in any way and it doesn't. In late winter and early spring, sap naturally runs out of maple trees through cracks in its bark. All the taps do is allow a person to collect it and the woodpecker sized hole heals over within a year. Calling it sap is a little misleading because it's more like water with a hint of sweetness to it compared to the sticky substance you find on pine trees. A lot of people drink maple sap just the way it is. Many believe it has medicinal purposes. Even pure maple syrup is far less thick than honey or the syrups you buy in stores and more like an amber liquid which is how you know it's pure. Last summer, I was curious when I moved here and checked the leaves of the perfect tree beside me and it's a sugar maple. Their leaves look just like any other maple except the edges are smoother so when I saw a lot of farmers in the area tapping trees this winter I started to get jealous. There's a guy down the road who does it the old-fashioned way with metal buckets so the other day I peaked in one of them hanging from a tree near the barn where I park the yukon to see how much sap had accumulated over the course of a week and there was only an inch or so at the bottom so I figured I might get enough sap by the time I got back from Tennessee to make a small bottle of syrup if I'm lucky. I rounded up all the supplies I needed and tapped the big maple in the field the night before I left. The 5 gallon spring water jug I used was full the next morning. "You're gonna need a bigger boat."

Two 5 gallon spring water jugs, one 5 gallon bucket (which I cleaned first), and a 17 gallon water tub for the horses filled to the brim all from one tree in about a week's time. I've got my work cut out for me. MissLuna was nice enough to swap out the containers while I was gone. The mason jar of syrup that I got from last night's batch is all the enticement I need. Anyone who's ever tasted pure syrup knows how amazing the flavor is. The amount of sap varies slightly from tree to tree, but you get about a 16oz jar full from one 5 gallon bucket (40:1). I'm going to have more than a few jars when I'm finished which I'll make presents of. Giving is better.



March 28, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
The grand canyon came back a few days ago and I've been in the trenches. I thought I was clear of this happening anymore. It's been so disappointing that I didn't even want to acknowledge it by writing about this setback, but I have to be honest. There's no point in any of this if I'm not. I guess it happened because I didn't immediately dive into my last couple of construction projects that I need to do before I can hit the road. I was planning on doing them. I even bought all the materials I needed, but then I stopped. I think this is the reason I found myself falling back into the void because those projects would have allowed me to become self-contained. I still have too many storage bins on the back of the trailer, but I'm not entirely sure that this is the reason and I won't be until I fix this problem.

After pulling the stove onto the porch to make maple syrup, I enjoyed having the extra room this created inside the house. Granted a full size oven range isn't exactly gigantic, but it's all relative when living in tight quarters. Regardless, I liked the additional space and didn't want to go back to how it was and this meant that instead of building a loft and small temporary bathroom, I should build the addition onto the house like I've been planning. The weather's getting warmer and I have a nice quiet place to work on projects. This seems like a smarter choice than building temporary solutions. I have a sh*t ton of energy and I haven't been getting enough exercise lately. Tackling these projects would have kept me occupied enough to hold back the flood gates until I lined up a new job in a different part of the country. Now that I'm going to stick around and start a bigger project, I need to find more work to pay for it.

I'm not going back to the guy who I was helping out. The last three days I worked for him, we were blowing insulation into the rafters of a giant industrial warehouse which consisted of me teetering on a 20ft. sissor lift fully extended standing on a step ladder on top of this holding a big blower hose as insulation blew back in my face all day while he stayed down on the ground where he was supposed to be keeping the machine full, but was often too busy looking at his phone so I'd have to yell down to get him to do his job. I even took the machine apart and fixed it one day when it stopped working without so much as a "Wow, thanks." He can barely bend over and pick something off the ground. I doubt he could even climb into the scissor lift. I had to buy a $40 respirator even though he said he was going to pick some up for us, but never did so when I checked with him the morning we were going to start blowing more insulation and he still hadn't, I bought myself one. I was getting bloody noses at night from breathing the stuff in all day. Not once did the words "please, thank you" or "good job" come out of his mouth, yet I use these words all the time when working with others not to be subservient; it's called being professional. I wanted to tell him off, but after I got paid it just wasn't worth it. He asked if I'd be around on Monday, but I just looked him in the eye and shook my head. He got a good deal while it lasted. I've sent out a couple emails to some farms in the area and I'm going to keep looking. Technically, I'm ok and could pay for all the materials I need to build the addition plus everything I already bought can be used, but I like having a safe buffer between living paycheck to paycheck so it doesn't seem smart to risk starting the project until I have some more money coming in.

Anyways, I think this is what has brought on my loneliness relapse. Haven't heard from missButterfly in a while, but sadly I think this might be a good thing. I called her on Sunday (today's Thurs.) only to make sure she was all set with her upcoming appointment with DCF regarding the homeschooling issue. This was the hard time she mentioned that she was having weeks ago. I didn't realize it was with the DCF (Department of Children and Families). From what I understand, they're not the most pleasant agency to deal with. MissButterfly told me that she learned that they receive a lot of money whenever they take children out of a home so there's a financial incentive for them to make this their primary goal which is very scary. I wanted to make sure she wasn't going to the appointment alone, but she said her brother and mother were going with her and told me she'd call and let me know how it went, but I haven't heard from her. Her children are surrounded by love and family. They have an amazing life and the only reason missButterfly got mixed up with the DCF is because she refused to fill out some bureaucratic form meaning she created the mess herself. Unfortunately in the world we live in, it's often not a matter of right or wrong even though it should be. It's a matter of keeping the awful parts of our system out of one's life. Part of me wants to call again to see how it went, but I don't think I should. I've shown her enough that I care. If I do more than this, she might get the wrong idea and I can't risk hurting her. If I had to guess, I'll probably hear from her eventually maybe in a few days or a few weeks. There's no guarantee and I have to be fine with this.



April 4, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
Came in from shoveling around the barn and clearing off missLuna's solar panels about 2pm. The heavy wet stuff always takes longer, but I welcomed the exercise. Cooked up a burrito for a late lunch and dried off. Last night, I made a list of all the farms and nurseries in the area and planned on passing out more fliers and cover letters in order to find spring work, today, but I'll do it tomorrow. I've been leaning towards working for myself as a laborer, but I've, also, been tempted to take a regular farm job for another season. The only problem is that I don't want to be here in the fall. It's an election year and I'd rather be in a different, less crowded part of the country where I can create a quiet peaceful life for myself. The problems of the entire world in so much as humans are destroying the planet and one another are mental. They only manifest themselves physically. I don't want to be in the middle of this type of thinking for the rest of my life as things continue in the direction they're headed.

Preferring not to be here any longer than is absolutely necessary makes finding a job challenging. If I didn't care about disappointing people, I'd just take any decent paying farm gig, enjoy the fact that I have money coming in while I work on the necessary projects to the tiny house, trailer and truck in my free time and then quit when everything was done and I didn't need the job anymore. This would be great for me, but would leave whoever I was working for in a jam hence the approach of making fliers looking for short term work instead. I've, also, considered taking one of the mindless factory jobs that the "temp" agency I signed up for last winter keeps sending me. I wouldn't feel as bad about quitting a job like that because I'd just be a number to them, a cog in the machine, but I'd still be interacting with co-workers, supervisors, etc. and they're people, too. I don't know what I'll end up doing, but I figured I'd write about it this evening to gain some clarity.

The other matter I need to keep clear on is the situation I find myself in with missButterfly. She arrived at my door, again, unannounced yesterday morning. Living the solitary life, of course, I'm going to be elated when I have a visitor, any visitor, but especially one who wants to smother me in female affection. Wearing yoga pants and a tight halter top under a warm fuzzy sweater made her even harder to resist, not to mention the massage oil she brought with her intent on giving me a back rub. It didn't take her long to notice that I was feeling a little apprehensive about her visit, but as dumb as I am, I'm not an idiot. When a woman who looks like that is dressed like that and shows up at your door on a cold rainy morning, you let her in and give her what she wants although it took a little persuading. She never actually gave me a back rub. I gave her one.

Alright, this isn't a friggin' paperback novel. This is my life and I need to be firmer and set clearer boundaries. As usual, I hadn't heard from her in like a week then she called and asked me to look at her plow truck, last weekend, because the forecast was predicting the snow storm we just got so I went over there on Sunday, pulled the alternator out of her truck which is usually in easy job, but this one was buried at the bottom of the engine beside the flywheel and under a bunch of other components. Still got it out without too much trouble. It was actually sort of fun with her and Firefly buzzing around handing me tools when I asked for one. She ordered a new alternator, I picked it up Monday morning and put it in while her and the kids were gone all day. It started right up and ran well. On a side note, I think it's pretty bad ass that this petite little thing can drive a stick shift while simultaneously operating a plow up and down her steep and rocky driveway. I know plenty of guys who could never do this, not even close. I'm glad I fixed her truck, but I know I'm playing with fire. The sexual tension between us is pretty intense. I got out of there before they got home. When she didn't call to thank me after a couple days, I thought maybe enough time would pass and I could continue on my solitary path without any more complications knowing that I helped her out one last time.

Not so much. She planned on thanking me a different way. Five hours later after back rubs and other activities, we still had plenty of energy, but she had to leave around 4pm. Before she left, she tried to make all kinds of plans for her and I and some that included the kids, too, but, of course, she's not looking for a relationship. She says that she's just trying to enjoy the time that's available before I eventually leave. I didn't have the heart to turn her away when she arrived at my door, but I know that allowing things to continue is irresponsible. I'm not some goody-two shoes prude. I'm just trying to do the right thing. I'm a grown man with plenty of life experience. I know full well when a person is over-rationalizing something in order to get what they want even though they probably know deep down inside that it's not a good idea. I've done it plenty of times myself and it's just easier for me to spot because I spend so much time alone. One ripple on a still pond is much easier to see than on a busy hectic one.

Firefly called me, again, this morning. That's the third time this little boy has done this. I know that it's his mother's doing and she knows how fond I am of him, but I'm not comfortable with her encouraging this. I've made it clear to her that my no.1 priority is making sure that I don't hurt her by allowing us to get too involved. Hurting the kids is unthinkable. They loved mr.Man-bun and whether she realizes it or not, it wasn't easy for them when he left earlier this winter. He didn't want to leave. It was her idea, but that's a whole other topic and none of my business. As I've traveled from place to place and met people along the way, I've gathered that most responsible single mothers keep the men that they date out of their children's lives. They protect their kids from going through the emotional roller-coaster of dating or getting attached to a father figure and then having him disappear overnight. If they ever dated a man who's not worthy of being a father figure that would be even worse. Every single mom makes her own choices regarding how she handles this aspect of adult life, but I've had enough friends who grew up in such a household tell me first hand what a negative effect being exposed to their mother's dating had on them. I don't need missButterfly to agree with me on this. My conscience is who I answer to and my instincts are never wrong.

I've been happy to help her out whenever and however I could and I certainly can't complain about the fact that there's a woman eager to spend as much time with me as possible, but this hasn't been a strategy of mine like reverse psychology playing hard to get until she reaches a point where she can't take it anymore and shows up at my door hungry and aroused. If I'm not careful, I'll be the next father figure to come and go in her children's lives and this is something that I will not allow. The only real time I've spent with them so far was a month and a half ago when we all went skating with a bunch of other people and at that point they could barely remember my name until I saw Firefly again Sunday when I was working on the truck. Right now, I'm just one of their mother's many friends. On that note, my belief that it takes a village supersedes this entire concern because missButterfly has a much bigger village than most people, certainly bigger than mine. I don't even have one, but I still have to be the one who makes the right decision. She's clearly not going to stop calling or showing up as sporadic as it's been unless I firmly tell her to which I haven't done because I didn't want to hurt her feelings. I can handle disappointing her, but I can't accept hurting her. Right now, we're still in the disappointment stage.



April 14, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
Well, I got kicked in the gut, again. The circumstances of my life are what make it weigh heavier than it should. Just like last winter, I'll pull out of it if I focus on bettering my situation rather than dwelling on my mistake. Spring is here and there's plenty of work available. None of it is exactly what I'd prefer to be doing, working on a farm, but I can't commit to a whole season because I should leave here no later than July and it wouldn't be considerate to quit a farm job in the middle of the summer when they need people the most, negative work environments like the place I worked at last summer not included. I actually bumped into the office manager from there while out doing errands last week. She called my name in the isles of a store and I almost didn't recognize her. She had such a big smile on her face that she looked like a different person. She had just quit, too, after over 4 years. She's working for a different farm now and so much happier. I congratulated her on making the decision to not be miserable at work any longer. I might have to grow a thick skin and take any kind of heavy physical work if it's only going to be for a couple of months. I'm eager to put some meat back on these bones. I'm very tempted to just start buying materials and build the addition onto the tiny house, right now, but I don't want to stress about money so I'm being patient.

I ordered another charge controller for my fancy new solar panel and that should arrive in a day or two then I can start using it. That'll be cool. Having two batteries has given me lots of extra electricity, but charging them with such a powerful panel will be butter. When I was hooking it up last week, I accidentally fried the charge controller I had. I was reminded the hard way that you should never hook up the panels first. The controller needs to be connected to the batteries beforehand so that way when you hook up the panel(s) the electricity coming from them has somewhere to go. This hasn't been an issue in the last couple years because I've only been using my small backpack panel which doesn't generate enough electricity to fry anything, but it was super sunny the other day and there was a lot of power coming out of the big new one when I connected it to the controller. Within a few seconds smoke was spilling out around the little buttons on the front of it. Wups. Lesson learned. It was only 12 bucks to replace it. I ordered it online. It'd be more like 50 at a store.

I'm not ready to write about my other mistake, yet. Still licking my wounds. Such an idiot.



April 27, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
I need to catch up. It got so bad that I didn't see the point even in writing which is the wrong way to look at a situation. That's just the judge in my head talking. Weeks were going by and I was barely hanging on. I can't let my story pile up and bury me. That would be a form of giving up. My story doesn't matter, but I do and there's a difference. It's not about ego. I don't need to tell it so I can feel special or important. I need to tell it so I can find myself somewhere in the mess. What good is a map if you don't know where you are? Writing is the only way I know how to get my bearings. Hopefully, it won't always be this way. Right now, I need to work through it all so I can come out free on the otherside.

The turning point finally came around 9 o'clock on Monday night when I got back from Greenfield. I think I left around 6:30pm. I had to get a part for my truck so I rode my bike the 20 miles to the closest auto parts store and back. My feet were freezing by the time I made it home. Wearing beat up old work sneakers probably didn't help, but I had been tuning up the truck all day and it's easier to climb around on the engine in them than in my big work boots and it was super nice out. The temperature dropped quickly once the sun went down. As I lay by the furnace in the tiny house warming up, the worse was hopefully over. The truck was running well, I could get to work in the morning and things would start improving.

The dust seems to have settled, now, but MissButterfly sucked me back into her world by asking me to do more things for her. She even admitted that this was the easiest way to get me over there. Her last attempt was asking me to look at her mother's ethernet cable. Her mother who lives on the property accidentally tripped over the cable and broke the jack that it plugs into. It took me a while. Those teenie wires break easily without a special tool to install them which I didn't have, but I got it rewired for her and she had the internet, again. Invites from missButterfly to dinner or to watch a movie insued along with stealing embraces or kisses when no one was looking. She even suggested how it would be nice if I parked down at the bottom of her driveway late at night so no one would see me and then walked up to the house and slipped into her bedroom. Are you f*cking serious? I'm not going to be someone's secret. I helped her with the things that she asked me to look at and politely turned down all the other offers and finally had to put a stop to everything. She was getting in the habit of just showing up here whenever she wanted. Not to be mean, but I never once invited her. I never once asked her for anything. I did find out that she got pregnant by some other guy before sleeping with me while visiting friends in Puerto Rico. I'm not judging her. It just sheds more light on the night she jumped into my truck. Then she tells me during her last unexpected pop-in that mr.Man-bun is coming up from PA for a visit and will be staying with her, but she wanted to keep sleeping with me. People are effing crazy. Maybe she mistook my kindness as a sign of low self-respect. That would be a mistake. I don't know and I don't care. My ego is not that important. We're just different people. When I asked her to wait to hear from me before just showing up at my house, she actually refused. I just laughed. It's funny because if a guy said that to a woman, he'd be called a stalker or maybe even have a restraining order filed against him, but I wasn't worried. Our interactions have always been positive. Even our last. We talked for a little while, she didn't get what she wanted (sex) so she decided to leave then I walked her down to her car and gave her a big hug. That was the last I saw of her.

Maybe things worked out with her and mr.Man-bun or maybe she met someone new at her first potluck bonfire of the season which I told her that I wouldn't be attending. She didn't understand why I had to remove myself from the situation because wanting someone and caring about them are not the same thing. I'm sure she thinks that she cared about me, but I have no proof of this. Caring is an action, not a thought. Our thoughts only matter to us. How we treat people is what matters to them. I went out of my way to show her that I cared, but it may sound harsh, she never did. She just liked how I made her feel and was using me and I let her because I thought any social contact is better than none and because of the tragic circumstances of her situation. No hard feelings. I'm a big boy. Back to the solitary life.

The solar panel stand I built works great. I can set it up in any spot with good sunlight or fold up the legs and mount it on the roof of the tiny house when it's time to travel. I planted carrots, cucumbers, peppers, tomatoes, celery and watermelon. The potatoes are almost ready to go in the ground, too. Well, in the dirt. I'm growing everything in containers so they can come with me when I leave. I've picked up a little work here and there from the fliers I put up in late winter, but rather than handing out more I took a warehouse job that I found in Millers Falls. It's only 6 miles away so I can ride my bike if I want to get more exercise.

It's Saturday night. I got home from work around 6:30. Technically, I didn't need to work, today, but I got a call in response to one of my fliers so I figured I'd take the extra work, make a few more bucks and get a little more exercise. The warehouse job is 9 to 5, Monday through Friday. I even punch a time clock. I take a manila card with my name on it, drop it in a slot and the machine punches the time. I've had a lot of jobs in my life, a lot, but I think this is the first time I've had one like this. It's a sh*t job for sh*t money, but overall I think it's going to work out. I like having a set schedule and an 8 hour day is a cake walk. Like I already mentioned, I couldn't take a farm job only to quit in the middle of the season. That wouldn't be cool. For now, I'm running a forklift and packing orders from door latches in padded envelopes to loading stacks of toilet bowls on pallets. I'm definitely working for the system, specifically the consumer world. This might be the deepest I've ever been in it. Technically, growing organic vegetables or hauling lobsters is part of a consumer economy, as well, but at least it's built on a relationship with the natural world. Working in a giant building supply warehouse all day is a lot different, but I'm viewing it as a social experiment. Lunch time in the break room is particularly enjoyable. I get to be around people for a change. The nice older lady who sits beside me keeps commenting on how I'm always smiling.

In a way, any social contact is better than none, at least for a little while. We're social creatures. We absolutely need it. The fact that I've gone so long without it is not good, but unfortunately if this contact is going to be truly beneficial for everyone involved it can't be just any type. It has to be built on honesty and trust. Otherwise, it becomes like a drug fueled by our natural needs, but founded other less healthy issues and unfortunately that was the case in the situation with missButterfly. I thought I was getting a social need met even if it was only every couple of weeks or so, but I can't trust the "don't ask, don't tell" crowd so I knew it wasn't from a healthy source. And, if I had let things continue her children would have gotten attached to me and then gotten hurt when I left. I wasn't going to let that happen. Do I miss her? Yes. I actually loved her surprise visits. I loved being able to hold her and receive all that female attention. Even the sex got a little better. I'm only human, but I don't miss wondering what else she isn't telling me. The only reason it perpetuated itself as long as it did was because I never wanted a relationship with her and she claimed that she didn't want one either, repeatedly. She even told me not to fall in love with her. I tried not to laugh. I give her credit. She's used to getting what she wants. I admire her confidence and can relate to it, but she is surrounded by friends and family support. I'm the one on my own and have to be much more selective about who I let into my world.

It's been pretty quiet around here lately. Things are better now, but for a week or two it was touch and go. It's pretty bad when the only thing keeping me alive is the fact that I don't want to leave a mess behind for someone else to clean up. In this case, that would be my landlady. Dead to the world is not a fun way to live. It relies soley on a person's ability to persevere while telling themselves that things will get better, that life will not always be like this, that someday they will matter to someone. Wah. The more time that passes with no change, the harder it is to keep telling oneself these things. Part of the problem is that it's even possible for a person to live completely alone. This isn't natural. Unless I'm living off the land in the wilderness hunting and gathering, I'm going to need other people to live with. It's just not humanly healthy for a person to live completely alone. This is why the modern world is so unnatural and unhealthy because as inhumane as it is it's completely possible to live alone in today's society. One might even say this world is deliberately designed to keep us apart. Many people manage to hold a handful of close family and friends around them while everyone else are on their own telling themselves "That's just the way it is." Focusing my attention on how unnatural the world is won't improve things for me at the moment. Getting busy and making improvements will so that's what I've done and I'm doing better, now, but it wasn't fun. It's useful to be aware of how external factors that shape the world we live in affect us, but I need to stay the course and address these factors and forces when I'm doing well not when I'm having a hard time otherwise it just sounds negative. Being negative cannot create positive change. Only being positive does. This doesn't mean we force ourselves to smile when we feel like sh*t. Being positive takes many forms. Taking action is positive. Action requires putting energy to use. It's an investment in positive change.

We all need to matter to someone. My first watermelon sprouted this afternoon.



May 4, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
Well, it's been a week and I should write. I've got to keep my table clear. I was wrong about a lot of things. The building supply company that I took a job with turned out to be owned by a liar. I couldn't be surprised because all the nice people who worked there told me this within a few minutes of the very first day and continued to tell me repeatedly for the next week. They made no secret of it. I eventually found out for myself when I got my first paycheck and the hourly rate was $16.50/hr. Yikes. The ad online stated that the pay was between $18-20/hr. Before I left on Wednesday, I learned that some of the people who have worked there for 30 years still don't make this much. That's pretty messed up. How can anyone be expected to live on that? A social experiment is what I was calling it and I definitely got a glimpse into a different world. I liked the people who I shared lunchtime with so to prevent them wondering what happened to me when I didn't show up for work the next day I waited until it was just me and the nice older lady in the break room and told her "good-bye." I had no doubt that everyone else would get the news and know why. She was very chatty.

Heading back to my work area on the second floor of the warehouse, I thought that maybe I should've waited until later in the day to say anything because the information might travel before I had a chance to talk to the supervisor who hired me, but there was no guarantee that I'd see any of them, again. My co-workers were usually gone by the time I clocked out. Surprisingly, even though he was always the only one still in his office at 5pm, that day my supervisor just happen to leave early. Interesting. Maybe he thought not being there so I wouldn't have a chance to talk to him would prevent me from quitting. I don't know. I shouldn't speculate. I sent him a text at 5 instead. He had already texted me a bunch of times since I started working there so it wasn't out of the realm of our communication, but it's much more professional to part ways in person. It had to be done though. I wasn't giving them another day. You can't lie about how much a job pays. Pretty sure that's illegal. I even wrote $20/hr on my application, but was prepared to take 18 at least to start with, but whatever. I've got better things to do than waste my energy arguing with sketchy people.

My supervisor eventually texted me back the next day saying he was sad to hear that I was leaving and asked why I thought that I'd be starting at 18 so I sent him a screenshot of the ad (I always save the work ads I respond to). Never heard back from him, but there is a slight chance because of what everyone told me about the owner that the supervisor had no idea what the ad read. Well, I tried it, made a few hundred bucks and moved on. Ok, almost a few.

Let's see, what else was I wrong about? I thought I wouldn't receive anymore unexpected visits from the woman who I reluctantly got involved with earlier this year because I politely asked her to stop doing this, but that wasn't the case. She came to my house on Thursday afternoon. It was a bright sunny day and I was working outside and saw her walking up the field. I still welcomed her graciously though I had mixed feelings about her just showing up, again. I had tools everywhere so I grabbed her a chair, but she hopped on the porch instead with her feet hanging down so I set up the chair in the grass a few feet away. First, she asked for a hug so I gave her one then I sat down. She was hoping that I'd take a break and go swimming with her down at the creek and knowing her it would be clothing optional. I didn't bite so we talked about other things. She revisited a familiar topic of how she thought that she and I should spend more time together, alone and with the kids. I asked her how many people were living at her house, right now. She laughed a little and told me that it was just her and the children. I tried to explain, yet again, that I didn't think it was a good idea to involve them for all the reasons I already shared. She asked if she didn't have kids, would my answer be any different. I told her maybe, but the other reason, to be honest, is that I didn't really trust her. This flustered her a little. Since we'd gotten involved, I've lightly touched on this concern a couple times, but I've always been gentle about it. It was time to be more direct.

I completely acknowledged that because I've never expressed any interest or made any effort to date her, what right do I have to take issue with whatever she does in her private life, but despite me flat out telling her more than once that I just want to be left out of that area she still keeps coming to my house. I took full responsibility for not being firmer and giving into her advances, but I reiterated my previous thought that I hoped she hasn't mistaken my kindness for a lack of self-respect. I shared that I didn't understand how she thought it would be a good idea to sleep with me while another guy who she was recently sleeping with and who still wants to be with her was staying at her house. I said that I would never do that to anyone. I told her, to me, that's pretty inconsiderate of someone else's feelings, mine or his. Her face by now was red, not with anger, but from being put on the spot. Then I asked her if they had slept together while he was visiting and she said that they had. Had I gone to the potluck bonfire that weekend like she wanted, he would have been there. Maybe she got some kind of thrill from having both the guys she's sleeping with at the same party. It almost made me sick to my stomach. She tried to justify herself, but I'd heard enough and asked her to leave. She can have sex with whoever she wants. I wasn't upset that she slept with him. I was upset that I slept with her.

I still didn't have the heart to make her walk all the way down the field to the road by herself so I walked her to her car, but no hug this time. I told her that if I want to talk to her, I'll reach out, but otherwise to leave me alone and that was that. I'm done being naive. She's going to have to find someone else to use.

She sent me an email not long after she left, but, right or wrong, I deleted it. Four months ago when she tried to start a non-relationship relationship with me, I explained that I couldn't get involved with the type of situation that she described, but I still never turned her away. It was my fault. I knew better. Like last November when I got a taste of her behavior, I've dreaded writing about this for the last four days because I hate drama, but I have to put it behind me and not let it fester. There's plenty more I could dwell on, but it's just not worth it and my head's a mess, right now.

I've got to be up early for work in the morning. I found a farm a few towns away who's been looking for a guy like me. Their last worker moved to Alaska. The woman who owns the farm with her husband laughed when I told her that's where I was living before moving back east. They're a raw milk dairy with a vegetable csa (community supported agriculture) and they need someone to fill 60lb bags of compost all day by hand that they sell at their farm stand, markets and nurseries. They left a phone number with their ad, but instead of calling, I drove over there on Friday to drop off one of my fliers, see their operation and hopefully introduce myself if someone was around. They were and I went to work that day. There was a huge pile of finished compost which basically looks like dark loam the size of a small hill when I got there. 110 bags and a few hours later, it was gone. There's not much money in shoveling compost. They pay by the bag, 50 cents each, but it'll get me in shape and give all this energy spinning around inside me something to do. The woman gave me a little more money than what the ad stated and tried to give me two dozen eggs, as well, but I thanked her and said one dozen was fine. I got two dozen last weekend from the lady who I did some work for (I gave one dozen to missLuna) and she, also, gave me way more money than we agreed upon because she said I was charging way too little so I've got plenty of eggs to eat and plenty of more work until July and it's the physical type that I love so I'm very thankful I found these opportunities. Fingers crossed.



May 5, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
All cleaned up and ready for the work week. I usually just take a quick cowboy tub, but I took a long, hot, full bath today even with bubbles. It was cold and rainy outside so it seemed fitting. Plus, I thought it'd be helpful to do something enjoyable for myself because I'm still feeling down from getting side-swiped on Thursday. Next, I'll be watching Sleepless In Seattle while eating a pint of Ben 'n Jerry's. Wah. Overall, I've got plenty to be happy about. I'm surrounded by nature, I've built myself a funky, little, off the grid, mobile house to live in, I'm growing my own vegetables, it's springtime and I'm psyched to be getting back in shape for the season.

I cut the bottoms out of two 5 gallon buckets yesterday and screwed them together end to end to form a big tube. This will slide inside the plastic compost bag and keep it open. Then I built a short square wooden stand. It's basically a box with no top that I can drop the bag with the tube into. This will allow me to shovel big heavy heaps (I'm bringing my own extra large shovel) of compost without knocking the bags over which should increase my productivity to the point that I might actually make enough money to justify my time while getting an awesome work out. They said that it's not possible for me to fill too many bags. I hope they meant it.



May 9, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
Life is subtle. Many aspects of life are more subtle than I give them the chance to be noticed for which is why I need to continually force myself to slow down. Happiness is like an off ramp on the highway. If you're driving too fast, you'll speed right past it. This world is flashy, loud and over the top. Life can be this way too on rare occasions, but most of the time it's like an acquired taste that a person has to put a little effort into in order to get the maximum enjoyment and appreciation out of. It's not always going to force itself down our throats like much of this world tries to. These are the things that I've been reminding myself of now that I have a few worthwhile components in my life. There's no reason why I shouldn't be able to appreciate the beauty around me more other than my own mind's refusal to be in the present moment.

I think I bagged too much compost. I worked on Monday, but haven't heard from the farm in a few days. I called and left a message, yesterday, so hopefully they'll call back soon. I think they will. They asked me if I was interested in doing other things on the farm and I said that I was so maybe it's just the couple of rainy days we got this week that's holding things up. It's not the end of the world if they don't. I've got plenty to do to the tiny house and I've made enough money recently to buy the materials I need to build the addition. I put the nice Euro-style window I bought last fall in, yesterday, and I love it. I framed the opening for the window when I built the walls, but I've been waiting for warmer weather to install it in case it took more than a few hours like a normal window usually does. Euro-windows have no convenient nail flange which acts as a waterproof barrier between the window and the house like American windows have and this one was going at the front of the tiny house where it gets the most wind and water when my homestead is rolling down the road so I wanted to make sure I did it right. I, also, wanted to incorporate shock absorption around the frame in the form of thick rubber suspension bushings I bought at an auto parts store to mitigate the impact of bouncing that it's going to experience so the glass doesn't crack.

Anywayzz, I love it. It lets in so much light that it feels like a different room and when I crank it open, it keeps the place nice and cool which will soon be necessary. A few times this spring when I've come home from work after a sunny day, it's been pretty warm in the house even in the evening. When I'm here during the day, I just leave the door open and that's been fine, but with the temperatures rising being able to open the window will make the difference. I'll build a screen door soon to keep the bugs out on the hot summer nights, too. Gotta love the sound of a screen door lightly banging shut to make a place feel like home.



May 12, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
Worked on the farm, yesterday. They said no one had ever done that many bags in one day. I apologized and explained that I didn't mean to take advantage of the situation. My intention was only to make sure that I made a minimum days wage by doing enough, but this is no longer a concern. They've been paying me way more than what the ad said. I'm not getting rich and I could certainly make a lot more building houses or running heavy equipment, but I'm psyched to have found work on a farm and they only need me part time for part of the summer. I can find more work using my fliers once the addition is built.

On Friday, I called the woman I was involved with and apologized for how things ended. From the beginning, I've been adamant about not wanting to do anything to hurt her and I honestly don't believe I have. I've been nothing, but thoughful and understanding. However, I did disappoint her and was curt with her, last week, but that was because she hasn't respected my wishes. Even so, something told me that I should still apologize. It was a very short conversation. I told her that I was sorry for how things ended the other day and that I knew what I was getting into regarding us and have no one to blame, but myself. I apologized for not being a better friend. She thanked me for calling and then there was silence so I said "Good-bye". Just before I hung up, she asked if maybe we could talk sometime. I told her that would be fine, but not to just show up at my house. She can call and I'll meet her somewhere. She called today (two days later) and left a voicemail, but only to ask if I'd fix her friend's freezer for her. I didn't call back.

I remember how relieved I felt this winter when I thought I had gotten myself out of the situation with her. Calling and apologizing got me that feeling back. Gotta be up early for work, tomorrow.



May 15, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
I bought all the materials I need and have started construction on the addition to the tiny house. No grand canyon the last two mornings which has been a welcomed relief. It's been kicking my ass for the past couple months. Hopefully, the respite will last, but if it doesn't, I know the deal. It's just a matter of weathering the grueling times. Not a perfect solution, but it is what it is.

Got another voicemail, yesterday, from the woman I was seeing. She wanted to meet up today and go for a walk. It meant a lot that she called. For the record, I don't like referring to her as "the woman", but I'm starting to finally see that she might not be the kind of person I thought she was. Maybe I made her into a saint when I learned of her situation and what she'd been through or maybe it was because she lived in such a beautiful off the grid home and had communal get-togethers like I plan to have, again, someday. The old expression "If God didn't exist, it would be necessary to invent him." can be applied to a lot of situations and relationships. If I'm not careful, the path I've taken can cause me to believe someone is more like me than they actually are simply because it makes me feel less alone. I think we all do this sometimes whether we realize it or not. Then when the person does something that we'd never do, we're completely shocked, hurt or even betrayed. Who's fault is this? The other day when she showed up here, again, and told me what she had done, but still wanted to be with me, it was like the rug had been yanked out from under my feet when I realized I'd let someone who is that different from me into my life. In a split second, I went from spending one on one time with a person who I thought respected me to down into the grand canyon I fell. It's moments like this that can make people start blaming one another for how they feel. I could sense my own justified unhappiness kicking in so I had to put a stop to everything. That's not the kind of person I want to be.

When I called her back last night, she told me that Firefly wasn't feeling well so he might not be going to the homeschool group that he usually goes to on Wednesdays (today). She said she'll call me in the morning because she can still get her mother to watch him so we could go for a walk. I thanked her for the call, but told her that wasn't necessary. The truth is I didn't want to go for a walk with her. Well, part of me did, an unhealthy part, but a healthier part vetoed the idea. I told her if she wanted to talk, we could talk right then, but she didn't. She asked whether I even wanted to meet up and I said, "No, not really. I'm all set. I apologized the other day so I'm good." I think she was a little surprised by this, but I told her that she can always call me if she ever wanted to talk and she said "Ok, maybe I will" and that was it.

Like all my previous attempts, I am so relieved to be free of the whole situation, but part of me still feels bad. Because I took responsibility for my side of things, I have no hard feelings towards her. Before giving her the boot the other day while we were still talking, I told her that I could understand how hard it must be for her to figure out how to navigate through the rest of her life now that she has found herself in a situation that she never imagined she'd be in. During the visit before this one, I told her that I hope things work out between her and what's his name. He's the one who wants to be with her. I unfortunately don't. Weeks before that I told her that I couldn't keep doing what we were doing. Not to sound chauvinistic, but I couldn't look her family and friends in the eye, if I was sleeping with her, but not doing all the other things that I believe a man should do for a woman. Her yard's kind of a mess, so is the basement, the vehicles need work, the list goes on. It really bothered me that I wasn't doing more, but when I told her this she said that she didn't want a man doing things for her. I don't know what the place looked like or what she was like before she lost her husband. Actually, they weren't married. They were life partners. They grew up together, built a home, started a family and were committed to one another. They just didn't believe that love and marriage were a business contract. I can respect that. Anyways, I don't know what she was like before he was tragically killed in a freak accident. It's only been about two years. Living off the grid is a lot different from living a traditional American lifestyle where a lot of things get done by flipping a switch or pushing a button. It takes a lot more work to live like she is and she's trying to raise two kids by herself on top of this. She might still be lost. What may look like selfishness could easily be the only way she knows how to function, right now. It's probably all she can manage. My heart goes out to her which I told her many times. I think because I never asked her for anything and let her come and go as she pleased without ever holding her accountable was why she liked me. By showing up here, she could take a break from it all and disappear for a few hours. I tried to do this for her and I succeeded for a little while, but I didn't see it as clearly as I do, now. There's a fine line between being unconditional and not caring at all and I couldn't not care -great grammar. Like I already shared, it would have been irresponsible of me to let it continue.

Thank God I didn't have stronger feelings for her. I could have gotten kicked in the gut a lot harder, but I knew from day one not to trust the situation. I'm a sap in a lot of ways. For example when I meet someone new, I enjoy putting their number in my phone. I'm a dork. I'll even put a picture of them with it if I really like them. I never even saved hers. I still haven't. Something told me to be careful. There's plenty of things that didn't add up or that I didn't relate to that I could elaborate on, but those are just facts. It was a gut feeling that I was basing my cautiousness on. Facts can be misinterpreted, manipulated, rationalized or even turn out to be false, but instincts are never wrong. For someone who's been a hopeless romantic all his life, physical relationships just don't work for me. I've always been afraid to even try one, but since giving them a shot over the last few years I know that they're a poor substitute for the real thing. I already knew this, but now I have the experience to back it up. Without trust, it's just an unhealthy quick fix. It might be a phase that she still needs to go through. I just can't be a part of it. If we don't look out for ourselves, we can easily get sucked into someone else's reality which can be very dangerous if they're not looking out for us, or not even capable of doing so.

A few weeks ago before her last visit when I thought things were over, I made and mailed her a card just to let her know that I was hoping she was doing well and that I appreciated the time we got to share. There was nothing in it to imply that I had any interest in getting involved with her, again, but maybe she still construed it that way. I don't know. Maybe she doesn't believe that a man could do all the things I did for her (I'm not saying that it was a lot) and not have a hidden agenda like wanting to sleep with her. The only way she can know this for sure is if I show her. Just like with missFlowerchild, I will let the dust settle for a little while and then reach out in some way to let her know that I still care. I just have to make sure I'm solid, first, and doing it for the right reasons.

I took missFlowerchild's son fishing in my kayak on a lake down the road the other day while she was here in Montague visiting her sick friend. The last time I called to check on her, I learned how poorly the older woman who lives here and who has been like a mentor to missFlowerchild was doing. Even though she never once let me know she was in town, during our conversation she shared how she'd like to visit her friend more, but sometimes it's hard to find a sitter for her son so I offered to take him for the day. He had a blast on the lake. We even found a baby turtle and kept it for a little while before setting it free. Her son is a handful with absolutely no discipline, but that's not his fault.

They ended up spending the night in her van parked down by the barn. After sitting by my fire pit puffing and drinking while her son and I added a couple new blocks to my jig-saw door that he decorated with bright colors and designs, I think she finally accepted that I wasn't going to join her and decided it was time for bed. She didn't have a flash light so I walked them down to her van. After her son was tucked in, she subtly mentioned how he wouldn't notice if there was a third person in the van with them, but I tactfully passed on that offer, gave her a big hug and said "Good night." He and I goofed around in the morning, skipped rocks down at the creek, rode around on my bike with him in the trailer, tended to my vegetables and she finally rolled out of the van around 11. Yikes. They headed to a party some friends of hers were having not far from here after we said our good-byes. It's surprising how different you can realize you are from someone who you started a relationship with for the wrong reasons once you've corrected that behavior.

As I walked back up the field, I thought I had purged myself on a positive note of these types of relationships, but I had one more unexpected visit to contend with. That's done with, now. Well, the relationship is. I still need to find a way to do something positive regarding this one. A while back when I confessed that I missed her, what I was really saying was that I missed a woman's presence. I didn't miss her. I didn't even trust her, but she has a woman's form and a woman's touch and these are things to be revered under the right circumstances. I can't imagine how good that would feel if this were the case. When I said stupid things like "When a woman who looks like that is dressed like that and shows up at your door..." I knew that it was bullsh*t, but because we were both single technically I wasn't doing anything wrong. Dumb statements like this stand out like a flashing warning sign after I write them, but sometimes it takes me a while to realize why. It wasn't a fun experience, but I guess I had to go through it to learn what I already knew. There's plenty of other statements like this that I could easily list off the top of my head that I could go back and address, but this isn't a work of literature. This is a tool that I'm using. I can't let loneliness or not wanting to disappoint others push me into doing something that doesn't feel right. When it comes to clear cut morality, I'm rock solid, but on social stuff like this I need to get back to how I used to be, but with a less self-righteous judgmental tone and a more positive one. This is what writing about it is helping me do. I have to be willing to tell people "No" knowing I'll be facing another day alone. I used to be a lot better at this, but that was a long time ago when I had more people in my life. Time moves on and we have to adapt and get comfortable with doing things outside of our comfort zone. I just picked the wrong thing to try and get comfortable with.

A young black bear strolled by just inside the tree line this afternoon while I was working on the house. I said "Hey!! Where do you think you're going?" I have a little compost pile, now, that I'm growing some fruits and vegetables and can't have him coming by to check it out whenever he wants. We have to keep a healthy boundary between ourselves and the things that can hurt us whether they mean to or not. He bolted like his life depended on it. He wasn't very big and this is probably his first year on his own so he's still learning where these boundaries are. Just to make sure, I walked down to missLuna's and there he was walking near the edge of the road and I yelled at him, again. Once more, he took off like a bat out of hell. As cool as it was to see him, unfortunately, that was his last warning.



May 19, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
Bought my first bag of ice yesterday after work which means it's officially summer. Can't have milk going bad in the cooler. Even though technically the first day of the season is designated by the summer solstice which is when Earth tilts towards the sun the closest and this doesn't occur until around June 20th, summer usually begins for most people on Memorial Day which is next weekend. Ugh, another holiday that will come and go which I have no plans for. Memorial Day is not just another day to party. It's when we should recognize and remember our country's veterans who made the ultimate sacrifice. This includes the soldiers who fought one another in our own Civil War and I believe that it should, also, include the thousands, if not millions, of Native Americans as well as African Americans (Buffalo Soldiers) who died in the long war between the United States and the original inhabitants of this land. I suspect when we die, we realize how pointless war is and that as human beings we all want the same thing, peace. If we could only evolve to this realization while living.

Ok nutjob, dial it back a little. You started off talking about a bag of ice. So ya, it's supposed to be in the 90's this week. Summer is here. I'm as psyched as I can be under the circumstances. I've got reliable work for the time being doing what I enjoy, puberty has hit once again and I've got bumps on my arms and shoulders where skin and bones used to be, my living situation is tremendously better than this time last year and my house will soon be 25% larger which means more room for one man dance parties and I need to start making hats and tshirts -I included this on the list in the hopes that it'll force me to finally do it.

I even got to do a little dancing last night. MissLuna asked if I wanted to go with her to see her friend's band play at Deja Brew, the funky little place way out in the sticks that I checked out last summer, but have never actually been to at night. What an awesome event. There must have been 3 generations of party goers represented with plenty of age groups in between. MissLuna is definitely not a night person. She usually goes to bed very early so I joked that maybe we should take two vehicles so I didn't have to leave when I'd normally be arriving, but it was fine. I was happy to have something to do on a Saturday night, anything, other than embracing my daily dose of solitude which is true for her in a lot of ways as well. She confessed that she invited me so it would force her to go because she might not have gone alone. We've been cordial with one another, but even though I've been here almost a year there's still a little awkwardness to our interactions so I thought maybe this will be an opportunity to improve this. We got there around 7:30 so it was still light out, but there were cars already lined up and down the road on both sides. Good sign. There was a band set up and playing just inside the door when we walked in. No cover, no door person, how cool. I knew the place was small, but as we walked through the narrow room past the bar there was a back patio and through that a backyard with another stage set up and a larger band playing on it. Behind the stage was a 10ft. pyramid shaped burn pile of wood and pallets waiting to be set on fire. I love country folk.

It turns out that the event was also a joint celebration for a few locals all having milestone birthdays. There was even free pizza. It's not always easy to get into a party mood when I don't know anyone and it's still broad daylight, but it was such a nice scene with kids running around playing games in one section of the yard, people hanging out on the patio, more people inside talking and listening to music and a few people (women) grooving in the grass in front of the stage out back that a person couldn't help, but have a good time. The band on stage even had a horn section and played classic covers like "Angel From Montgomery", but with a groovier danceable baseline along with a lot of originals. Other than the singer who was her friend, missLuna didn't know anyone either, but no biggie. It was a very welcoming vibe. The smaller band inside was good, too. It was crowded in there, but not so much that you couldn't move or had to wait forever for a beer which I got myself one and missLuna a margarita. You gotta love a place where it's just as acceptable to piss in the woods which is my preference as it is to use the restroom or the porta-potty outside. Sorry, I'm too undomesticated (I still was my hands).

When it finally got dark enough, they set the big sculpture-like pile of wood ablaze and the scene was complete. I found a little spot off to the side of the stage so as to not draw too much attention to myself and eased into a very chill version of dancing and zoned out a little. A few others got the same idea so the group got bigger which allowed me to get lost in the mix and the music and take a break from life, the road, loneliness, everything. Then something surprised me. For a brief moment, I was almost thankful for the little drama I recently experienced, not for the drama itself. Still hate that, but to even have someone in my life for a short period of time is not something to be overlooked. For that, I felt lucky even if it wasn't under the best circumstances for either of us. Plenty of people don't have anyone. It made me smile especially seeing as the place was right down the road from her house and I wouldn't have been shocked if one of her children went running past me at any moment so that was nice.

I wasn't sure where missLuna had gone off to. The last time I saw her she was talking to the singer when the band took a break. It was cool that they had the wherewithal to keep good music playing loud enough through the speakers in between sets so people could keep dancing. This isn't always the case in such a casual venue. In hindsight, I probably should have gone over and introduced myself, but I don't get out very often these days and I didn't know how much time I had so I wasn't obligating myself to do anything other than enjoy the night. I'm sure I would have taken the time to meet her friend if we were staying much later than 9 o'clock, but that wasn't the case. I soon found missLuna inside when I went in to grab some water. I had a feeling our departure was approaching, but before it did I noticed someone who looked familiar standing by the bar.

It was missButterfly's mother. We both had big smiles on our faces when we recognized one another. As loud as it was in there, we had a nice talk. I listened as she filled me in on what was going on in her life. She's definitely not the typical grandmother. She wasn't staying at missButterfly's at the moment because the friend who was letting her use his tiny house parked on missButterfly's land was back for the weekend with his girlfriend so they were using it. I don't think she has an actual permanent residence until some type of matter is resolved concerning a piece of property in town. She grew up here, too. Eventually, to no surprise, the conversation made it's way around to missButterfly and myself and we had an antagonistic, but friendly little debate. She accused me of being one of those guys who's afraid to commit and if I'm not going to commit then the woman is allowed to do whatever she wants. Even though her third-party information wasn't exactly accurate, I entertained her point of view and rebutted with my own. MissLuna was almost beside herself with laughter watching us go back and forth. No progress was made and nothing resolved, but it was still pretty funny. Not exactly the positive ending I was imagining nor was it with the actual person I intend to have it with, but I'll figure out a way to make that happen before I leave here.

Maybe part of me is envious of those who can be so carefree regarding sex and dating because they have so many other people in their lives that it's not that big of a deal to them. I don't think I'd change my attitude towards any of it if this were the case for me, but I'm sure it would allow me to not take it all so seriously. On the flip side, I think the path I've taken makes me better at picking the right kind of person to be with as hard as she might be to find because I know myself a lot better than those with a million distractions in their lives. Granted, my recent track record doesn't exactly speak to this fact, but when I look at the circumstances of my life during the time when I allowed myself to get sucked into these situations against my better judgement, they weren't very stable. Last fall when the mess I just got myself out of started, I was sleeping in a small enclosed trailer full of tools, boxes and bins, #mlr , I was in a new town where I didn't know anyone, the home I'd grown up in had just been sold, my father -the reason I'd come back here, and brother were now starting a new life on the other side of the country without me and I was about to hop on a plane to a foreign country where I'd never been in the hopes that it might be a place to call home.. I'm not making excuses. These facts don't justify my mistakes, but they do help me understand what contributed to me making them. I used to be very good at holding my ground when it came to matters of the heart. Maybe too good. I've turned "it" down more times than I can count, but when you feel like a one-legged table it's easier for the wrong forces to lean you in the wrong direction. I've improved enough of these circumstances that it's time to be more myself, again, and put what I've learned to practice. I think the key is to not become judgemental when things don't go my way. We can't control the behavior of others and it's not wise to take anything they do personally, as difficult as this might be in the moment. If we're true to who we were born to be, that truth has a way of taking care of everything else.

Got a new hat with the name of the farm on it. Work boots, jeans, a clean white t-shirt and a new hat is a country boy's tuxedo. The dairy farm's not a huge place about 40 acres, but they run it solely themselves, a husband and wife duo. The dairy, a vegetable csa, a compost business, layer chickens and a summer camp for kids which starts in a couple weeks. That's a lot of work for two people. They've got three small children, too. Took down a giant oak tree for them, yesterday. It was dead and leaning too close to the barn for their comfort. They didn't want to try to take it down themselves because they were afraid it'd fall in the wrong direction and it would cost them a lot of money to hire a tree company to do it, but I got it done safely for them. They've offered me plenty more work if I want it.

The walls for the addition to the tiny house are built, the rafters, roof and exterior sheathing are all prepped and ready to go on and I'm just waiting until I have two days off in a row to remove the door and front of the house to add on the new section then we'll see how things stand.



May 22, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
It's definitely summer, now. I was so filthy when I got out of work, today, that I pulled over at the bridge on my way home and jumped in the brook to rinse off. Twice.



May 24, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
I love instincts. They're always right. They're not only my instincts. They're available to everyone and when you learn how to listen to them they become louder and easier to hear. It's like when a person loses their eyesight. Their hearing, sense of smell and touch all become much more powerful, far greater than a seeing person's. This is simply because someone who is blind has to rely on these faculties more than someone who can see. The same is true for listening to our instincts. All we have to do is stop relying on what we've always relied on, our erratic thoughts, and start listening to something much wiser. Your brain is just a computer. It can only work with the information that it's been given and only using the programs that have been installed on it. Our hearts, the faculty we use to sense our instincts, work much differently. They have non-linear intelligence and access to an infinite amount of information, more than we can even comprehend. Our instincts send us messages from the most vast data base that exists, the truth. The easiest way to start getting better at accessing this information is by being honest as much as possible, all the time if you can. Easier said than done in a world full of lies, I know, but the reward is far greater than you can imagine. This is Mother Nature's design. She is the database of truth and all truth is interconnected. Learn, accept and know the truth about yourself and you'll immediately possess your own key to unlock this door.

The problem with dishonest people is that they're not very bright. They actually think they're smart enough to deceive others or cheat the world and get away with it. They're ignorantly unaware that there are lot more signs that only an honest person will recognize that reveal their behavior other than the lie they're trying to cover up. That old expression, "If you tell the truth, you don't have to remember anything," sums it up nicely. I think it was Mark Twain who said it. This is one of the liberating perks to being honest, but the real benefits are even greater.

Sadly, a recent example of dishonesty is my last interaction with missButterfly. She called on Tuesday afternoon and asked if we could meet up. She wanted to talk in person rather than on the phone which I can understand to some extent. I prefer talking in person as well, but she had more than talking in mind. She wanted to go for a hike and spend a few hours together. Yesterday when I arrived at the dirt parking lot in the woods at the base of the trails that led up to a scenic overlook not far from her house, I asked her what she wanted to talk about. She rode her bike there which I thought was cool. She told me that we could talk while we hiked. I just shook my head with a smirk at the nerve of this assumption. I told her, unfortunately, she hadn't said or done anything to make me want to go anywhere with her, but I still thought the right thing to do was give her an opportunity to talk so that's why I came. This was far enough. I knew her tricks by now even if she didn't.

More than an hour later, we actually made some progress and the overcast clouds broke up allowing the sun to shine through the trees a little. I even gave her a hug because I didn't have the heart not to. She'd been trying to get close to me since I got there. I calmly and without judgment explained that I was sorry, but I just didn't trust her. However eventually, I acquiesced because it was so clear that she really needed one. Then she tried to get me to come to her house to look at her tractor or take some extra roofing material she thought I might be able to use on my house that she had in her yard, but I didn't bite. All in all, it was a positive experience even if she didn't get what she wanted. We, both, even smiled and laughed a little then unfortunately she let one of her lies slip and it all came crashing down. She built a house of cards using reasons, excuses and justifications which all seemed like they made sense, but my instincts were telling me something still didn't feel right as she was now trying to make plans for the future. All it took was one honest question from me to make it collapse. I wasn't even trying to do this. It was an innocent inadvertent question, but the look on her face said it all. She instantly realized all the progress she'd made in the last couple hours talking her way out of her most recent behavior was lost and she was going to have to start all over, again, but I didn't have any more time to give her.

It's really sad that a person can be so oblivious to their own schemes. At least, I think she's oblivious, but maybe I was wrong about this, too. I told her that I had to go. I even kissed her on the top of the head before I left as she stood by the edge of the woods facing away from me. Maybe she was unable to face the realization of what she had unknowingly done, again, or maybe she was unable to face me knowing that she'd gotten caught, again. I don't know which person she is. It's a shame. I was just as disappointed as she was. I desperately need more friends, but I can't allow someone who lies in my life. I don't think she's a bad person. Being honest takes practice. Most dishonest people don't consider themselves dishonest. They simply assert that they only lie about certain things. That's like saying most of a gallon jug is spring water while 10% of it is motor oil. Honesty doesn't work like that. I felt bad. I really did, but her dishonesty hurts people, me included, and it's not my job to make her stop this behavior. She'll have to learn it on her own, if she chooses to. A world without consequences teaches us nothing. I even sent her an email when I got home because she had shared while we were talking that she thought about me all the time and felt awful since we'd last seen each other. I didn't want her feeling bad because of me. I assured her that I wasn't mad at her. I just can't allow someone who thinks this kind of behavior is ok in my life and I wished her well with no hard feelings. No reply.

Honesty is not something you try when you realize that getting what you want a different way isn't working. It's not a strategy. Honesty is a way of life. It's something a person can dedicate themselves to at any age. It's a beautiful relationship that you can have with the infinite and all-knowing aspect of life. Call it God, Mother Nature, the universe, whatever you want. MissButterfly is a grown woman and has had her whole life to realize the value in this. She adamantly claimed that she never lied to me repeatedly which I thought was odd because I never accused her of lying, but it turns out she wasn't being honest with someone else about me. This is a perfect example of one of these obvious signs that I mentioned. It makes me cringe when someone admits to lying, but "Don't worry. I'm lying to someone else, not you," as if I'm dumb enough not to realize that I could be this person next. If she believed in being open and honest on her own accord, none of our "misunderstandings" would have happened. I'm not even going to specify them. I'm humiliated enough for even allowing myself to get mixed up in her mess. Thank God for instincts or it would have been a lot worse.

Honesty truly is a labor of love. It's where love comes from because the only way to be honest is to speak from the heart. Desire is a whole other animal, but we can still tell the truth about this. Honesty is not one of many options that we can choose to adopt or not. It's our link to the truth which is already inside us. This is where we came from. We're born honest, yet we're the only species that learns how to lie because we think we're sooo smart. It's never too late to realize we're not, but I guess you have to eventually get humble enough to accept this.

It would be easy to judge others for not being more honest and people definitely need to take responsibility for their behavior, but judgement is not the answer. We'll run out of people real quick if we start judging everyone. We're stuck with each other and ourselves. I've had to realize that some people simply don't know how to be honest. It's something that a person, if they choose to, has to relearn when they become young adults and their life is now their own after this world has already taught them how to lie like it's a requirement to function within the system. This takes a lot of practice. The world certainly isn't going to teach us how to be honest so how does a person learn it? By living on the outskirts of mainstream life like I have? I wouldn't wish that on anyone.



May 27, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
I get way too excited when I fix something for someone. The joystick (the lever that raises and lowers the bucket) on one of the tractor's at the farm broke off when mrs.Farmer was using it the other day and they asked me if I'd take a look at it. Apparently, this is not the first time it's happened and it cost them $1,200 to have it repaired because the tractor needs to be trailered to the dealership and the entire cab (the part where you sit inside) has to be removed in order to fix it. I looked at it on Saturday, took the remaining broken shaft of the joystick off temporarily to see how it is attached to the rest of the mechanism, picked up two big 14mm bolts at the hardware store this afternoon and welded them together cap to cap in order to create a shaft with threads on both ends, screwed the joystick handle (which I brought with me) onto one end of it and tomorrow, I'll install it. Can't wait. Right now, they're using a pair of pliers clamped onto the broken shaft to operate the bucket which means they're not using that tractor very much which up until now was the tractor they used the most.

Tried visiting mr.Music in Fall River, MA, which is over 2 hours from here, yesterday. I remembered that it was his birthday and he had a gig with one of the bands he plays with near Battleship Cove so the plan was to surprise him. Bought him a funky new hat. He's a brother and is always rockin something stylish. I figured this would be a good thing to do for the holiday weekend, but I hit so much traffic before even getting halfway there that I bagged the idea after an hour of sitting on the expressway. I texted him and told him I was sorry that I didn't make it over to see him and that we'd catch up in the next week or two. We usually try to get together around our b-days because he, mr.Model and myself all have them within a month of each other in the summer so that's the new plan.



May 29, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
Got home at a reasonable hour this evening which is rare for working on a farm this time of year, but I'm trying to get comfortable with not being a people pleaser. I put in a 12hr day, yesterday. They've already offered me a full time permanent job and told me that they don't want me to leave. I love the work, but being a glorified farmhand is not all that I'm supposed to be not to mention I could never support a family on what one makes which means that I have to disappoint them and stick to my path. I'll get them a card or something to let them know how thankful I am to have met them and how sorry I am that I'm not sticking around, but I have to remind myself that their farm is their dream. They have each other and their children. My dream is something else somewhere else and if I'm lucky with someone else. Whether I achieve this or not remains to be seen, but I have to try.

Anyways, I'm relaxing at the moment knowing that I'm off, tomorrow. Things aren't perfect, but I've had plenty of perfect moments lately. The big maple is in full foliage and when the warm evening light hits it as the horses graze in the field down below I feel like I'm already living in a dream. I can't rest on my laurels, though. I've got to use my free time to, yes, be present and not let the perfect moments rush by unnoticed, but, also, to use the big picture perspective that being present provides to keep moving forward slow and steady in the right direction. Sounds good in theory, but theory is just thoughts and talk. Action is the real thing.

It's not always easy doing what's right. If happiness is meant to be shared and misery loves company then loneliness can influence our behavior even when we're doing well. I could be getting all the female affection I want, right now, but to do this I'd have to sacrifice a little self-respect and a little integrity which I won't do because I'd lose a little of myself in the process and I'm all I have. It's still not easy. Things would be perfect if I had someone to share my days and nights with and there is someone just a few miles down the road.

Or, I bust my butt, get the damn addition built, make it amazing in this little house and then howl at the moon every night until the right person hears me.



June 2, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
My shed sized house is now more like a very small barn. I have to walk from my bed to the door like really walk with full strides and everything where as before I could almost reach the knob while still under the covers. It was a pretty quiet weekend socially and I know that I need to make time to have fun since summer has arrived, but I had two days off in a row with no rain in the forecast and I've been putting off the project long enough. I sort of got invited to a reggae dance party by missButterfly, last night, but I decided to pass and keep working on the house. I finished up around 9:45pm and I was filthy. The poster she emailed me said the concert ended at 10pm (everything ends so darn early these days) so it wasn't really worth trying to make it there. I was on the fence about it anyways so I think it was a good call that I didn't go, regardless. We haven't seen each other or talked since the day in the parking lot at the trailhead so nothing's changed. I didn't want to go for a hike with her then, not sure why she thought I'd want to go to a reggae concert with her, now, but like I said technically she didn't invite me. She just sent me the email and said "Heard you like to dance....Maybe I'll see you there." I still plan on ending things on a positive note with her before I leave, but that wasn't it. I haven't left the property since getting home from work on Friday except to walk down to the brook this afternoon for a swim and to take a break from building. Unloaded a full truck of hay for missLuna on my way there so getting to rinse off felt even better.

I started by sanding the boards on the porch because most of it is going to be my new kitchen floor, removed the existing front wall and door, added the new walls then re-attached the original wall, installed the rafters, roof and re-hung the door all in one day. Spent my first night in my new and improved tiny house, last night. That was way better than any concert. Today, I added the porch overhang and painted the exterior sheathing of the new sides. Did the whole project barefoot in a pair of shorts. Normally, I'd never use power tools without my steel-toe work boots on, but it was too hot for boots and jeans. Figured I might as well get some sun while I'm at it. I made most of my cuts with the hand saw anyways. Reconnected the propane for the stove and furnace this evening and cooked up a burrito in my new kitchen. Cabinets and countertops are next. I can't believe how big it feels in here. There's actually enough room for two chairs. I don't know which one to sit in. I've got options. I'm sure no one else would consider it roomy, but it's all relative and this is plenty for me.



June 11, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
Drove to Marshfield after work on Friday. Had to. I was talking on the phone with mr.Finance earlier in the week and he told me that mr.Fireman's mother was dying. Mr.Fireman ghosted me last summer when I moved out here. I called him a bunch of times in May and June, but he never called me back so I stopped. We were pretty close and talked all the time when I lived in Marshfield then silence. Not sure why. I sent him a bottle of the syrup I made this spring with a card apologizing for anything I may have done and he texted me as soon as he received it to thank me and wanted to come out for a visit. I replied that it was a 2 and a half hour drive so I'd just let him know the next time I'd be in Marshfield. I don't know why he didn't just call, but I wasn't going to make him. He's a big texter. I'm not. I don't think it's an appropriate form of communication for certain matters. It's good for stuff like "I'll be there in 10 minutes" or "Hey, I'm running late," but for resolving misunderstandings it's not the best tool. I wasn't going to have a text conversation about whatever the issue was, but I haven't made it back to Marshfield since last summer other than my quick St.Patty's Day visit. Regardless of how things stood, his mother was very sick and that was more important than any weirdness between he and I. And, I knew he wouldn't call if he needed a friend so I left straight from work, got to Marshfield that evening, went by Roche Bros., got a bunch of ready-made meals and dropped them off at his parent's house. I remember when my mother was sick and hospice was coming every day, the last thing we had energy for was cooking. Then I drove over to mr.Fireman's, but he had been called into work. His wife was home with the kids and she and I had a nice talk. She hoped that I'd stick around until he got home in the morning. She explained that her and the girls were going to stay with family for the night so he'd be by himself. She was certain that he'd really like to see me so I crashed in the yukon over by the expressway for the night and did a few errands in the morning. He texted me thanking me for the food, we agreed to meet up later, visited mr.Finance for a little bit, still hadn't made a plan with mr.Fireman by late afternoon so I just picked up a couple steaks, brought them over to his house and cooked us up some dinner while he caught up on a bunch of household projects that he hadn't had a chance to get to like mowing the lawn, painting a new mailbox and working on his daughters' bathroom remodel. His sister was over at his parent's helping out for the night. They take shifts. He and I had a great talk and a few laughs then I drove back to Montague late that night. I had plenty of my own projects to get caught up on.



June 23, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
It's around 9am on a sunny summer morning and I'm riding my mountain bike along a country road leading back to the field where my tiny house is parked. A moment ago, I was lifting the bike off the roof of a woman's car where it had been haphazardly fastened with bunji cords the night before -the quick and lazy way to transport a bike. Our paths were, now, heading in different directions.

The previous morning started off a typical work day aside from the secret fact that it was my birthday. Put in a good day's work, but a lonely one. MrsFarmer has gotten in the habit of leaving me a list for the day or week of things she'd like me to do by the compost bagging area with the caveat that I can pass on any of them if I so choose, but I never do. It's not a bad system, but it means I rarely see or talk to anyone all day. That's the trouble with being so dependable while not requiring any supervision or direction. I always find myself working alone. I can't complain though. It's exactly the type of work I was looking for. I should probably ask for a little more money, but the familiar reason that I won't be here much longer trumps justifying this.

I crushed the list, went above and beyond as usual, got paid and headed on down the road. There's a little dirt turnout about a half a mile from the farm where I often pull over in the morning if I'm too early or stop at when I'm finished for the day to decide what I'm going to do next, head home, do errands or, in this case, head out and treat myself to dinner, take a quick road trip, explore someplace new, etc. I brought a change of clean clothes with me in case I was going to treat myself, but I spent part of the day moving big railroad ties around in the dirt during a rain storm so I was filthy. After sitting there for a minute, I decided to head home, clean up and regroup before making a decision.

When I opened the door to my tiny house, the aroma of wild flowers greeted me. I smelled them before I saw them. A small glass jar with an arrangement of white and magenta flowers sat on my stove along with a card. My birthday was not so much a secret after all. In the card were hints to where other presents were hidden. Outside in my extra cooler (I bring my big one to work with me everyday), I found some home-made cake and there was, also, a new potted tomato plant placed among all my other fruits and vegetables growing on the back of the trailer. MissButterfly strikes, again.

Aside from a few texts and a very nice voicemail from mr.Model in the morning, I have to confess that I wasn't having the greatest day, but it's par for the course on the road less-traveled so I'm used to it by now. Her thoughtful gesture hit me harder than I expected and it was all I could do to not let my eyes water up a little as I sat there not feeling so alone. Now, what to do? Of course, I was going to thank her, but how and on what level? Timing and the initiative of a strong-willed little lady had something to do with making the decision for me. When I called to thank her, it turned out that her previous plans had fallen through (my bday fell on the weekend this year)and I mentioned that I was going out to try to find some music and invited her to come along so we combined our plans.

She drove to my house for a quick pre-game dance party and we headed out in the yukon. Twice the music that we wanted to check out had been canceled, but that didn't phase us in the least bit as we bopped from place to place her showing me a little bit of her old stomping grounds and me showing her where I'd spent last summer's bday where we played a couple games of pool. Neither of us wanted the night to end or more specifically neither wanted to part company from the other hence me throwing my mountain bike on the roof of her car and driving her home in it.

We did good. By now, we'd seen each other once since the hiking trail parking lot because I called her the previous weekend while I was driving to Marshfield to visit mr.Fireman. It had been bothering me for days that I hadn't responded to her email invite to go dancing nor to a card that she left on the front seat of my truck a couple weeks before that. Me telling her to wait until she hears from me just doesn't seem to work. Rather than react negatively to her not respecting my wishes which is how justified unhappiness gets its hooks in a person, I thought I'd just give it more time. My call was a short platonic voicemail to let her know that there were no hard feelings and that I hope she was doing well, but I guess I hadn't waited long enough because she seemed to interpret it as a green light to go full steam ahead. She stopped by on the following Thursday. Her honesty still needed work, but I didn't let anything happen between us even though she wanted us to which allowed me to be caring and supportive of her and her situation. That felt very good and was a big step for her. A night of having fun together combined with the killer outfit she had on topped off by her wearing my new farm hat, I was impressed with both of us for behaving ourselves physically. You wouldn't think a sexy dress and a baseball cap would go good together, but g'damn. What's a country boy to do?

I still held the course. I explained to her that if you find that you have a special connection with someone you can either exhaust every ounce of goodness from it like wringing out a sponge or you can protect it, nurture it and see what it grows into. That's what I was trying to do. Protect it. Easier said than done at 2am. In hindsight, it was pretty naive to think that nothing would happen if I went home with her. Her kids were at her mother's, but this wasn't the first time I'd found myself lying in bed with a woman and stopping us from going any further. The difference is they were all strangers who I'd met out dancing, at a party or other happenstance meetings on the road. MissButterfly and I already had history which started off on the wrong foot so getting us on a healthier path was going to take more than just strong will power. Getting what you want and getting what you need are rarely the same thing. How in the world was I going to get myself out of this situation? It was my birthday. Well, technically, now, it was the next morning, but she had done such a nice thing for me, more than I'm used to, more than anyone's done for me in decades. Was I supposed to just shoot her down? We talked. There was plenty of hugging and affection at this point, but still no kissing or sex. Was I being the biggest stubborn idiot on the planet -don't answer that, or was I truly protecting and trying to preserve something more important than fleeting physical desire?

After a while, I caved. I felt like I was only hurting her feelings by not letting us. We got no sleep. After I road my bike back to my house the next morning, I tried to get a few things done, but she wanted me to come to her potluck bonfire party that evening so it wasn't a super productive day. Again, I gave in. It was her son's birthday on Monday and I wanted to return the favor of what she had done for me. Going to one of her parties was just part of this. It was pretty awkward and uneventful as usual. Nothing felt any different. As far as I could tell no one still knew who I was, but I forced myself to stay, hung out by the fire, did a few dishes in the kitchen to keep myself busy, but when she came in and found me there she said she was going to say good night to everyone so I said good-bye and got myself out of there. Something still didn't feel right. I hadn't met a single friend of hers who she acknowledged our relationship to.

I did my own thing on Sunday even though she called twice in the morning because she wanted me to come over and help her with a project and then hang out with her and her friends for the brunch that they have every Sunday after the party. I had barely gotten anything done all weekend so I stayed home and worked, but I called in the evening to apologize for not coming over and to ask her if Firefly had a leatherman. I loved this kind of stuff when I was his age so I thought it might be a good gift and I, also, wanted to know what shoe size he was because I was going to get him some Native American moccasins. She assured me that he'd love these gifts, but, also, told me that it probably wouldn't be a good idea if I came to his birthday party. Mr.Man-bun was going to be there. He was driving up from Pennsylvania and would be staying with her for a week. MissButterfly strikes, again.

I should probably stop writing, right now, otherwise I might smash this laptop into the ground.



June 25, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
I think that was the first time when writing about something didn't make me feel better. I thought I had waited long enough since it happened, but I hadn't. All it did was bring me right back to the moment of feeling so much anger and pain. There's one thing about pain that I'm not sure I ever clearly recognized before. Even though I haven't quite found my way back to January, a month of consistent joy and happiness, plus all the temporary intervals of it since then, I think those experiences are still preventing me from entertaining any anger or negativity. It's like part of me, a wiser part of me than my injured pride and ego, will not allow me to act on the level that the pain is on. Maybe because by giving into it, this will only keep me at that level and that's the last place I want to be. This doesn't make weathering the actual emotions that tore threw me all night, the next day and continue to any easier, though they've lessened a little by now. In fact, refusing to stoop to that level almost makes me defenseless against the pain because it's still down there stabbing at me over and over.

Surviving the initial hit was not guaranteed. I stood there in the field as it was getting dark spinning out of balance inside and out as if I was clinging to the planet rotating 1,000 mph while traveling through space at 67,000 mph yet with no atmosphere to keep me attached to its surface just the strength of my fingers and the blades of grass they were grasping onto. Seems highly unlikely. Whether we like it or not sometimes, oxygen continues to enter our lungs, our body continues to function and our mind remains conscious so we have no choice, but to experience the moment for as long as it lasts with no end in sight.

Of course, familiar statements rang in my head like "When am I going to fucking learn! How could I have let this happen, again?! I knew better!", but then something else dawned on me. It took a while. I think it was later the next morning. It's not happening again. It's always been happening. I've just gotten better at living with it. When something unexpected like this which I have no control over hits me in the heart after I've let my guard down, all the skills and tactics I've developed to live and travel through life alone can't protect me. Not only has a giant black hole opened up below me, there's, also, a gaping one in my stomach that someone has stuck a leaf blower in and turned it on full blast. I don't want to live and travel through life alone, but sudden and painful experiences like this remind me that this is exactly what I'm still doing.

An hour later, she called and asked if she could come over and talk to me. I agreed because anything was better than how I felt. She tried all her tricks explaining how she was never interested in him, how he wore her down by being so helpful, how he was jealous of me, how the only issue is that she doesn't want to lose him as a friend, how much stronger a person I am than him, but when I said "I'd never want her to lose a friend so let me talk to him" and assured her that I wouldn't be mean, start a fight or do anything like that, I care about all people, I just wanted to see the situation for myself, she wouldn't agree. She was adamant that she wasn't going to sleep with him. She said it over and over, again. I just shook my head wondering why she was trying so hard to convince me of this. I told her that she needs to convince herself if that's something she doesn't want to do by simply not doing it. I don't care who she sleeps with. I'm not jealous. All I've asked her is to leave me out of it. She wanted me to give her a couple days to iron everything out than we'd talk, again. All the while he's staying in her house, spending everyday with her, still trying to get with her, having slept with her the last time he visited and I'm supposed to just go about my life waiting and wondering. Are you effing insane? Thank God I didn't have feelings for her. Yes, I tried to care about her, wanted to help her and cultivate a friendship, but I never wanted to date her. Wonder why.

I must be the insane one for allowing myself to get involved in this mess, again, but the truth is I'm not. I'm just not a sheep dog. If you take a puppy away from its mother when it's very young and place it with a flock of docile sheep, the natural needs and longings that the puppy is born with will be transferred onto these other animals that somewhat look like its mother. Those natural needs will not be denied. The only thing the puppy can do is assume that this is its family and that it belongs with them. It doesn't have a choice or know any better. Someone else is controlling its environment. We, all, as humans have needs that will not be denied, too, me included. I never did anything to start a relationship with her, but I still wasn't strong enough to turn her away, cut her out of my life completely or even disappoint her consistently enough when she kept trying to have one with me. I wasn't doing it to get laid. I gave in because I was afraid if I didn't I'd lose the one person who visited me, the one person who wanted me. That's the undeniable human need that I fight with everyday. Attaching it to someone who doesn't care about me was my mistake. Wah.

Another example of this that for some reason came to mind is found in one of my favorite books, Oliver Twist. I was never into old classics like this when I was younger, probably because we were forced to read them in school not because we wanted to. It wasn't until I was an adult and had spent many years living on the road that the story hit home. Granted, it's a fictional book and the real life plight of street children tells the same, but much more brutal reality. They are young and need love and protection, yet don't have the luxury of choosing who gives this to them. An adult predator can manipulate their circumstances under the guise of caring for them, but what it really wants to do is use them like Fagan did, or worse. These children have never experienced what healthy love, care and protection feel like so they actually end up developing a loyalty to these abusive adults for providing unhealthy forms of their undeniable needs. I'm certainly not comparing myself to what these poor children go through. It's just a much clearer example of how the needs we all have can become twisted causing us to make unhealthy decisions or behavior. This is why social media is such an addiction for so many people nowadays. It may have felt like my best birthday only because I didn't spend it alone for the first time in as long as I can remember, but what happened that night after the clock struck midnight (might as well throw in a little Cinderella, too) changed everything. She thought she had finally got her hooks in me which is what she's been trying to do since last winter, but I'm not a sheep dog and the heart doesn't lie. Because I've never had enough female attention, when I received hers even if it was an unhealthy form of it I remained loyal to it until I got hit with another serious wake up call. The major difference is that I'm not a helpless child so I do have a choice. I just have to remind myself of all the things I already know, but, also, try not to beat myself up for agreeing to receive affection from someone who wasn't being honest with me. I'm still a one-legged table. When the tiny house is ready for the road, I'll be a two-legged table which isn't any more stable, but it will allow me to continue my search for a cornerstone, not just another leg, a tribe or a permanent place to call home. This is what I need to focus on as hard as it might be at the moment.

Do I think she's a bad person and did all this maliciously? Honestly, I don't know. I wasn't interested in finding out because this is beside the point. What I do know is that getting involved with someone who behaves like this is not healthy so if I did, it means there's something operating in my life that's unhealthy, too. Do I think she's a messed up, even a little bit sick, person? Maybe. Definitely, not trustworthy.

I've got sh*t to do.



June 26, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
Our conversation ended calmly and amicably, that night. I walked her down the field under a beautiful night sky as she tried to hold my hand believing that her plan was still in place. I let her, but then gently pulled my hand away. I reminded her that when two people have the difficulties that we were having, there's more at play than just the shortcomings or misunderstandings of the individuals involved. This messed up system that we're, all, living in is a major reason why we don't always get along. When we got to the barn, she said "Talk to you in a couple days," as she got into her car. I didn't respond.

I had to work in the morning, but didn't get much sleep. I wrote this email instead, but waited to send it until the following evening because I didn't want to make her feel bad while she was trying to give her son a fun birthday party.

2:34am
Thank you for coming over despite how busy you are, how tired you were and how much you have on your table. It's late and we're both exhausted so I definitely wasn't going to call, but I need to remove myself from this mess. I know you said that we'd talk in a couple days, but that doesn't work for me. I shouldn't have to wait. You are the one who created this situation. I've been trying to get myself out of it ever since I bumped into you at the People's Pint last November and you're just not hearing me. I know my behavior seems inconsistent to you, but this is because we want different things. All I've wanted is to end things on a positive note, but every time we do you use this as a reason to keep it going. I don't want to keep it going. There's been some good, but, unfortunately, for me there's been more bad and I'm not putting myself through anymore of it. I was much happier before we got involved. I'm sorry to say that. I'm not mad and take full responsibility for my decisions, but I've never had so much drama with someone. I know how to treat people and show them that I care. I would never ask you or anyone to get involved in the situation I've found myself in with you. I've tried to be open-minded, but I just don't trust you. I'm sorry. I know what love and care feel like and this isn't it.

Thank you for the nice moments. Please, respect my wishes this time. I've always respected yours. Maybe I should have been firmer in the past, but I don't want to get angry at anyone. I am not interested in any type of relationship. I shouldn't have let it go on as long as it has. I'm sorry. I want to go back to my happy life and be ready when the right person comes along. I want this for you, too.

You'll be in my prayers.
I wish you all the best.


Not exactly the positive ending I wanted to have with her. I hated having to send it, but step 1. was removing myself from such an unhealthy situation by looking out for my best interest because she certainly wasn't. I'm crazy enough to still want to salvage a positive ending with her, but I'll wait to do this until I'm feeling better so I know I'm doing it for the right reasons.

The next day, I lost my job at the farm not because of anything I did unless being a hard working, dependable person is a bad thing. Over a month ago, mrs.Farmer asked me to pick up mr.Farmer at the hospital in Boston which is two hours away. I was a little surprised by the request, but I couldn't say "No." He almost passed out walking up the hill to the milk barn caused by a blood clot in his lungs. It turned out he had several. I worked extra that week so she didn't get overwhelmed. I hadn't been working for them long when this happened and didn't know him very well. Still don't. He doesn't really say much. I took my own vehicle because I could tell she didn't really want me to take their truck. When I found the hospital, it wasn't one of the big world renowned ones in Boston. It was in Brookline and a little dingy and pretty rough around the edges actually. I found him in his room and took the role of a relative or close friend because who else would be picking someone up at the hospital?

On the 2hr drive back, we talked mostly about the farm, where he grew up which is Amherst, MA, a few towns away from the farm, how he got into farming, his family, etc. The conversation consisted of me asking him questions and him answering them. He didn't ask me about myself. I was surprised to learn that he had never been to Boston and he explained how lucky it was that I picked him up and knew my way around or he never would have found his way out of the city. From a lot of the things that he said, it was very clear that he wanted to retire as soon as possible. He had both his knees replaced last year. My guess had been that he was pushing 70, but apparently he's not quite 65. Mrs.Farmer told me the other day that she's 35. She's a very hard worker and full of energy.

When she called me on Tuesday and left a message telling me that they couldn't pay me anymore, she said it was because mr.Farmer was upset with her for spending so much money. I saved them thousands of dollars. She told me more than once that she wanted to hire me full time. If I had to guess, he probably felt like he was losing control of his farm, first, to her and then she hired me someone who worked just as hard and was doing a lot of things that he could, maybe even should, have been doing. After I drove him back from the hospital, it became a concern of mine that he might become threatened by me. I was nothing, but polite, courteous and professional. Never asked for a thing, kept to myself and used my own tools when doing all the extra things they needed me to do. Early on when she asked me if I'd cut back all the tall grass along the road and around the farmstand with the weed-wacker, which was theirs, I knew when I went to put gas in it and found a big trash bag stuffed into the gas jug in the place of an actual cap that we were different people. I even picked up a new cap and nozzle at lowe's for 12 bucks with my own money when I was there getting some lumber for my tiny house the other day, but decided to return it because I didn't want to offend them. Instead, I looked around in their dumpster and found a cap from a jug of Round Up poison ivy killer she had me spray around the swing set that the kids from the summer camp would be using and it fit. The rats that scurried out of sight when I'd open the milk room door were another red flag.

Not the best week. Well, at least, I got back in shape and have more time to work on my house. Just another example of how being a hard worker can become a problem. I know this isn't always the case, I just need to find such a situation or create it.



June 27, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
I'm sure I must look crazy to people if they see me walking along somewhere, stop, take out a pen and a post-it-note, write something down and then continue walking. I started doing this in college after I quit playing hockey, changed my major and removed myself from the beer drinking jock crowd I ran with who all we did was get in fights every weekend. Once I opened the flood gates and acknowledged another side of me, ideas were always popping into my head and I'd write them down. This wasn't only an attempt to not forget something. Writing them down, also, made room in my head for the next possibly better idea to present itself. It was a letting go process, not a hanging on one. At the end of the day, when I look at my to-do list, the ideas that I've jotted down in the margins will either be clearer with more significance or they'll be disposed of like fitting together a giant jigsaw puzzle of truth. "No, that one doesn't fit. Back into the pile it goes," or "Yes, this one's a perfect match," and I can take one step further on the map this is creating.

As I zigged and zagged my way through the see of people at the Green River Music Festival, last weekend, I stopped for a second and wrote this down, "Tell your story before it buries you." I had a card in my back pocket that I spent all afternoon making. I'll get to that in a minute. I know the idea of telling one's story is not a new one in this blog, but it applies to all of us. This is why it takes a village because under natural conditions, we would all share and carry one another's story. We wouldn't be constantly competing for attention or our turn to speak like many people do in modern society. If we have no village, our individual stories can pile up to the point that by the time we get old, we're cynical and jaded rather than wise and compassionate. For those who have close families or have started one of their own, this might not seem as obvious or pressing, but a family is just a micro-village. We need an all encompassing one, an actual village.

It was fun to be among the crowd. I wasn't lonely or self-conscious which was refreshing. Things are very different from a year ago when I went last. I didn't pay to get in either time so I guess that's one thing that hasn't changed. It was 9:45pm when I arrived and the concert ended at 10:30. Everything ends so darn early these days. Sorry, I wasn't paying $100 for less than an hour. At least, this time I didn't have to blindly walk for miles in the dark to get there. I drove, parked a little ways down the road, pulled out my mountain bike and road it the rest of the way and I had a house to go home to when it was over. That's a game-changer. Duh, ya think? Before I left, I even mentioned to missLuna that I was going in case she wanted to come, but it was too late for her even though she was the one who reminded me that it was that weekend. I could've gotten there earlier to dance longer, but I had projects to finish and was still able to get lost in the music for a little while. I needed that so badly. I considered going earlier the following night, but it rained all day so I bagged the idea.



June 29, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
The cool thing about not having a screen in the bay window over my bed is that a little bird has been flying in and perching on the sill . Unfortunately, I did have to make one to keep the bugs out at night. That's the price to pay for comfort. I love my new screen door, too. MissLuna gave me a small deer antler that she found in the woods on one of her walks last fall so I used it for a handle which was the perfect accent to it's rustic look. The screen door however is not perfect. I could've done a better job squaring it up to fit tighter inside the frame of the big wooden door when I was building it, but it does the job and makes a gentle bang when it closes.

Now what? Should I run out and find more work so I'm not stressed out about finances or should I take advantage of all the free time I've found myself with, get a few more things done on the house and trailer and then relocate? I don't necessarily have to go far, but as much as I love being in this field having to walk down to the road to get something out of my truck or carry tools, my cooler, building materials, etc. back and forth everyday isn't exactly convenient. It's a couple of football fields long. I use my wheelbarrow when I have a lot of stuff. Then there's the isolation. I don't have good cell reception here so I can't call anyone even if I wanted to. Wah.

I reached out to mr.Solar in VT with an email, last week, to see if I could come up and work on some projects for him just to get a change of scenery and to be around people because the truth is I was hanging on by a thread every day. He thought it was a great idea, but then his wife responded to my email using his account later that night after having a few too many glasses of wine telling me in a very disjunctive way that she wanted me to come up, too. I don't know her that well. We've never really clicked. I definitely didn't know she's been reading all my emails that I've sent him. I don't really feel like dealing with that situation. For someone who has a no drama policy in his life, what the heck am I doing to attract it? The fact that I even made an attempt to be around people instead of relying on white-knuckling it was a big step in the right direction even if the attempt wasn't successful.

Mr.Model who I called on his birthday would love for me to come to Tennessee and get a bunch of stuff done for him, but I wouldn't make much money or be able to work on my house in my free time not to mention I'd have to leave all my fruits and vegetables that are budding and blooming very nicely. I added some sturdy 4 foot tall cages to one side of the 5 gallon buckets that the watermelons and cucumbers are growing in. They both like to sprawl out along the ground taking up a lot of room so now they're growing upward and I have little baby watermelons and cucumbers hanging from the vines. I'll support them with small cloth slings when they get bigger so they don't fall off prematurely. Last week, I, also, got a call out of the blue from a buddy I worked with on a big federal construction job in Oregon years ago. He wants me to come out to Hawaii and work with him. He just landed a high paying job building houses for millionaires out there and they asked if he had any hard working friends who are like him. I'd have a house, a company truck and make a boat load of money, but, again, I'd have to leave everything here. I've had a few offers over the years, but Hawaii is still the one state I've never been to. To confess, part of the reason is the relationship between native Hawaiians and the white culture taking over their home. I don't really want to be a part of that. I suppose in some respects it's no different than living anywhere else in the U.S. It's just much more obvious on a remote island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. It was like this in Alaska, too. I told my buddy that I'd love to come visit, but moving out there for 6 months or so to work for rich people might not be a good fit. He told me to think about it while he works out the details and we'll talk again soon.

At least, I have options. Writing about them is what helps me arrive at a healthy decision. Leaving here and being around people might be a good idea. My best thinking got me in this situation and as close to accomplishing my most immediate goals as I may 'think' I am, the emotional roller-coaster that I just survived is not something I ever want to go through, again, not that it was the first nor will it be the last, but I have to do whatever I can to prevent them taking such a toll on me. There are no guarantees in life and intense emotional experiences will inevitably come knocking on our door whether we invite them or not, but flying solo like I have has made them harder than they needed to be.

I was putting on my boots a minute ago to go by uhaul to rent a trailer and pick up a big load of hard insulation that I found on craigslist last night for the walls in the tiny house, but I stopped and forced myself to sit down and write about these options instead. The problem with being stubborn and determined is that I can usually accomplish anything if I set my mind to it even if it's the wrong thing so writing about it helps me see this. I'm trying not to run. I'm trying not to rush. I'm just trying to be.



July 4, 2024, Kingston, Massachusetts
I just rolled up to mr.Finance's house and it's a little after midnight so I'll let him know that I'm here in the morning. He texted me a couple times this week wanting to know what I was doing for the 4th and I had to get out of Montague because MissButterfly is still up to her tricks and I didn't want to be there to be affected by them so around 9:30, tonight, after finishing up my projects for the day, I jumped in my truck with a sleeping bag and a duffle bag of clothes and headed for the coast.

The tiny house is coming along nicely. Instead of roofing the addition I just built with lightweight corrugated plastic like the rest of the house, I made the new section of the roof into a little sun deck using flat wood panels over waterproof adhesive so I, or "someone", can sit up there for star gazing at night or lie up there for a little sun bathing during the day. The small shed on the porch which will have a ladder incorporated into one side of it for climbing onto the sun deck is almost done, too. I've rounded up all the lights and the brake controller I need for the trailer. I've had t-shirts made and hung some on the wracks of the Salvation Army in Hadley and the Hawaii job is still a possibility, but spending too much time alone when there's a woman down the road still messing with my head isn't helping my progress or mental well-being.

There had been no communication for 11 days then on Friday evening I heard a car door shut and the horses acting up a little so I stopped what I was doing and walked down the field and that's when I saw her car driving away from the barn. Her window was down and she saw me up in the field and stopped. We, both, froze for a second then she waved tentatively and I waved back.

"I left a card on your truck!"
I slowly waved, again, and nodded like I was giving her permission. I'm such an ass.
"I hope that's ok" she yelled again.
I nodded and half-waved, again, then turned around and walked back up the field as she drove away. I could hear her kids in the car with her otherwise she probably would have pulled over and gotten out or maybe I would have kept walking towards her, but under the circumstances all she could do was drive away and all I could do was walk back up the field. As calm as I may have appeared, my stomach was in knots and my heart was pounding. I was a wreck.

That's enough play by play. This isn't a friggin' story. Over and over, I've wrestled with what I'm supposed to learn from the unhealthiest situation I've ever found myself in. I've avoided drama and people who behave like her my whole life. I've been cross-country 14 times, 5 times on foot, and there's no doubt that I've had brushes with shady and dangerous people along the way, but never once have I found myself in any type of trouble because I've always trusted my instincts. Why is this happening, now? Is it just because I made one single mistake last fall when I allowed myself to sleep with someone who I didn't know well enough? I never do stuff like that. I think the original mistake was continuing to go to her parties after I'd been to the first one before anything even happened between us. I'm on my own out here so of course I was psyched to receive the invite from an interesting and pretty woman from the cute and happenstance way we met and the whole scene that I discovered when I went was really cool, too, but nothing significant happened for me personally so I just should have enjoyed it for what it was worth and then went back to my life to focus on all the things I was working towards and take the opportunity to help her when it arose. Every time she reached out after that to remind me of her next party, I fought with whether I even wanted to go. Sometimes I passed, but other times I came to the conclusion that it was better than spending another night by myself, but each time I did this I got further and further away from decisions that reflected what I want and closer to what I didn't want. Now, I know this wasn't better than being alone.

It took me a while to walk down to my truck and open the card, but later that night I eventually did. It was a Friday so I left the property first and drove to a local bar, the Hatfield Pub, that had enough of a crowd for me to get lost in if whatever it said sent me into a tailspin. It didn't. It had a pretty envelope that she made herself with the photo of a big butterfly on the front of the card inside. She shared how she's been looking hard at her own behavior regarding why I chose to distance myself from her. Apparently, I'm the second person who's done this to her recently. Her best friend who was dating mr.Man-bun before she got involved with him no longer speaks to her. I'm so embarrassed for allowing myself to get implicated in any of it. He is still staying with missButterfly. She said that she didn't agree with me shutting her out of my life completely because there were things that she wanted to say, too. She confessed that she thought about returning my hat when she dropped off the card, but she couldn't bring herself to part with it because it still smells like me and it's the only thing she has left to cherish. She told me that she wears it almost every day. She said that if she doesn't hear from me, she will respect my wishes and not contact me anymore, but that I'm always welcome in her life.

It wasn't a bad letter even though I don't know whether or not to believe anything she says at this point so it was still good that I was in a public place. I was pretty wound up and a change of scenery where I could take a fresh look at the mess helped though I didn't stay long. After I read it, I called her for one major reason. I wanted to tell her that I wasn't shutting her out of my life entirely and if she ever needed to talk to me or just be heard that she could always call, but that I was never allowing myself to get involved with her situation, again. It turns out mr.Man-bun was visiting other friends in the area for the weekend which is why I'm guessing she dropped off the card when she had the chance, but now he's back staying with her for another week so I know I have some time before she starts making attempts to get with me, again. Absolutely insane.

I was up by 5, but didn't want to disturb mr.Finance or his family so I did some writing on my laptop, had a bowl of cereal from my cooler then jumped in the pool a little after 8, but still no sign of life in the house so I left to do some errands. Called mr.Fireman to let him know I was in town, but didn't hear back. Sent mr.Finance a text, too. I did get a voicemail from missButterfly so it was good that I was no where in the vicinity to encourage any of her antics. Knowing that I had apologized to her and taken responsibility for my role in everything in a card of my own, I was able to let go with no strings attached. I made my card weeks ago, but hadn't sent it. I waited. I wanted to make sure that I was doing it for the right reasons. The dust needed to settle. As strange as it may seem, I kept it in my back pocket just in case I bumped into her somewhere like at the Green River Festival or out and about doing errands around town, but I never did. Then when I finally arrived at an unconditional view of everything, I dropped it in the mail. Ironically, she hadn't received it yet when she dropped off hers at my truck. My mistake had been that I was treating her like an equal. No offense, but she's not. She's a mess. She's very knowledgeable about a lot of things and I admire how she's chosen to live, but she doesn't have a clue regarding how to treat people. However, I'm still going to give her a pass because of what she's been through. I've never mentioned the details of the accident when she lost her partner and her children lost their father. It's not my place to broadcast that information, but it was very traumatic for all of them. Like I've said many times, my no.1 concern has been to not hurt her, but in a way this made me powerless in protecting myself. I can't do that anymore. I knew how she behaved from day one and could have taken exception with it then, but I didn't. Allowing her to continue acting like she has towards me for months is no one's fault but my own. I'll just have to prove this when I'm back up in the field by myself if she shows up, again.

Driving the boat alongside the historic Mayflower in Plymouth harbor so my 8 passengers could see it up close was another helpful change of scenery. Mr.Finance bought the 23 foot Robalo, his first boat, a few years ago, but I grew up on boats and have worked on them all over the U.S. so he was happy that I was willing to run it for the day, plus it gave me something helpful to do. We went fishing in the morning, just him, his youngest son and myself, came back to the house for a poolside barbecue with the rest of his family and more friends then headed back to the harbor in the evening with a whole gang of us to watch the fireworks from the mooring he rented for the night which was only a stone's throw from the barge where the fireworks were being set off. Independence Day in Plymouth Harbor. It was quite the show. Having grown up on the ocean, it was comforting to be back on the water.

As pathetic as my predicament back in Montague is, I'm determined to uncover the lesson that I need to learn from my role in it all. I'll confess that even though it's been humiliating, writing about it helps me process it, see my mistakes and get perspective. I even tried talking to mr.Finance about it, but he seems to write off my social life as single-people-problems and doesn't give it much due. I could sit here endlessly rationalizing one thing or another as I type, but I'll know the real reason when I come across it. My instincts will tell me when I do.



July 5, 2024, Dedham, Massachusetts
It was after midnight again when I pulled off the expressway. I said good-bye to mr.Finance and hit the road around 11, but as I was passing the East Street exit off rte.128 in Dedham which is the one my parents used to take to visit my grandparents when I was a boy, I decided to stop before heading all the way back to western Mass and see my extended family that still lives in the same neighborhood in the same houses. I parked in the Holiday Inn parking lot down the road for the night so I wouldn't disturb anyone by rolling in that late.



July 6, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
I ended up spending the whole day in Dedham which was a good idea. Grabbed breakfast at a diner with my cousin and his wife, got to see my aunt and uncle across the street and catch up with them as well as hear what's new with my other cousins. Even jumped in the above ground pool at my other uncle's house next door. To no surprise, I rolled into Montague around 12:30am. Loaded my big cooler and the duffle bag of clothes into my wheel barrow and headed up the field through a dark mist of fog and night sounds. At least, my vegetables got watered nicely while I was gone.



July 7, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
I've been using the sun deck a lot more than I expected. I'm not sure why I like it so much. Maybe it's because it's fun being up higher or maybe it's simply because it's 48 sq.ft of extra floor space which is a lot for a tiny house. It just happens to be on the roof. Whatever the reason, I'm loving it. The weather's been crazy hot for the last couple days, but instead of stopping whatever I happen to be working on to walk or ride my bike down to the brook, I filled up the stock tank with water and have been taking the occasional dunk to cool off and wash the sweat and sawdust off me then I climb up on the roof to drip dry for a few minutes then get right back to work. I leave a big towel spread out up there. It's like going to the beach.

Something is happening. I don't want to jinx it, but thing's are starting to feel a little like January, aside from the extreme humidity and 90 degree weather. Could it be possible? I finished building a bench beside the porch shed, today. It's a place to sit down and pull off my boots before going inside, but doubles as a storage box. It's comforting to know that getting stuff done and making progress is the most reliable cure I've found for difficult times. Who would have thought? Hard work =feeling good. Duh. I'm leaning towards spending a chunk of money to buy a big stack of hard insulation instead of going back to work, right now. If building the shed and storage bench makes me feel this good, insulating the interior walls will allow me to panel them which then will allow me to build a storage loft over the kitchen. Then I'd be self-contained and ready to travel. I could throw one up temporarily without insulating and paneling the walls, but making temporary fixes counter acts being present. Instead, it encourages hurrying. Hurrying is bad. Being present is good.

The stock tank was already set up in the grass so I took a cool bath this evening after I was done for the day. My first one outside. As I was picking up my tools feeling all clean and refreshed, I couldn't imagine how I could feel even better if I wasn't all by myself up in a field, but instead was parked someplace where other people were living like me. That would be amazing. That's the plan. That's the goal.

I talked to my buddy in Hawaii a couple more times and the owners of the high-end construction company that he's working for are eager for me to get out there even though I haven't spoken to them yet which is the next indicated step before formalizing an agreement, but I found out, yesterday, that the house they're "providing" which I'd share with my buddy is going to cost me $1,000 in rent a month. I haven't paid rent in 20 years. A couple hundred bucks to park in a field doesn't count. Granted a thousand dollars isn't a lot these days especially in Hawaii, but I'm starting to wonder why in the world I would abandon my little shangri-la so close to completion. If I bang out insulating the walls and build the loft soon then I could chase down as much work as I can find around here to replenish what I'm spending right now and then some. I'll sleep on it.



July 8, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
Had another great day, but a quiet one. Up at 6 and got a lot done, laundry, homesteading and building. I was so tempted to bite into one of the mini-watermelons hanging from the vines. Took an unintentional nap in the middle of the day when I stopped to eat. Woke up in a panic with my pulse racing. Not sure why the grand canyon is so much more intense waking up from a nap compared to a full night's sleep which I haven't gotten lately hence unexpectedly dozing off. Too much on my mind. Anyways, the rest of the day was fun, lonely and productive. Topped it off by playing a little guitar on the sundeck this evening, no pun intended.

I have a decision to make. I just got a bunch of texts this evening when I turned my phone on from mr.Journeyman in Hawaii. That's what I'm calling him. His lifestyle is similar to mine except he works super high paying jobs all over the world while I've made peanuts working on farms all over the country. We met on a big job building a water treatment plant for the U.S. government on the coast of Oregon years ago and have kept in touch. I signed on as a carpenter. He was an iron worker. He's been a commercial diver laying cable on the bottom of the ocean off the coast of Africa for a fiber optics company, managed large natural gas facilities with over 100 employees, been an oil rig worker and then promoted to project manager. The list goes on. He's, also, an avid surfer and a black belt in ju-jitsu. Those are the impressive details.

The not so impressive details are that he just had an ankle monitor removed from his leg for a domestic violence charge that he went to jail for and is now on parole. It happen in Colorado as a result of a nasty divorce he's been going through for years. His ex-wife made up a bunch of lies about him -his words, not mine, but I believe him. However, the police automatically believed her and the lawyers involved are cashing in on him. They make more money from a guilty person than an innocent one. He's not allowed to see or contact his son or her two children who he basically raised and supported for ten years and he can't leave Hawaii for a year and a half. He had his parole transferred from Colorado to the island in order to get away from her because she had all his finances seized and was trying to make his life miserable. He's basically been homeless living out of a school bus in the mountains in a different part of the state for the past two years. He had is truck and all his tools shipped to Hawaii because he figured being homeless there might be better there before landing this job which occurred in a fortuitous series of events after he helped out a stranger.

I'm not throwing my buddy under the bus by revealing all this info, but I have to lay it on the table in the interest of transparency so I can make a clear and honest decision about the job. He's trapped in paradise for a year and a half. I'm not. I'm very close to finding my own version of paradise. Just this evening, I said to myself that things would almost be perfect, right now, if I only had a job. For the past couple days, I've been weighing the choice between finding another gig versus continuing to work on the tiny house and decided that bringing in some money would be smarter than continuing to spend it so I got online tonight and immediately found a job posting for driving a truck for a farm a few miles down the road here in Montague which I'll go by tomorrow and introduce myself. I won't even mention how little it pays. Another relevant fact is that I sort of don't like doing construction work, as a job, not for myself or for friends, even though it pays twice what farming pays or in this case triple, literally.

Mr.Journeyman informed me tonight that they've already offered me the job without even talking, but I still need to call the owner to make it official who I learned during our last conversation did 8yrs in prison for assault. He's, also, a professional big wave surfer. Again, I'm just laying out all the facts. It's a 6 hour difference between here and the island and it's midnight here, right now, so if I do call it won't be until tomorrow. I need to sleep. It almost feels like this is a form of temptation similar yet different from the version I've been trying to avoid for the past 6 months. MissButterfly seemed like a good match for me on paper as far as living off the grid, growing her own food, creating community, etc. Even with having lost her partner and being a single mom to two kids, I could've seen myself stepping into that role with the right person and she's young enough to have another child if that were something we decided, but she turned out to be very bad for me. She was not the right person and this is why I wasn't looking for a relationship with her.

I wasn't looking for a construction job in Hawaii either, but my buddy is blowing up my phone with pics and texts. The free spirit in me says "Are you nuts? It's a good paying job in the one state you've never been. Get your butt out there!", but the wiser side of me is sensing that something is making me anxious, not scared. There's a big difference between the two. I'm supposed to face my fears and heed my anxiety. One's a bull's eye that I need to head straight for to make myself a stronger and freer person. The other is a warning to stay clear, sort of the feeling I got about missButterfly which I didn't listen to. Am I being a pussy because I'm afraid to go all the way out there with little information and so much riding on the outcome for the type of work I don't even like doing? Stay broke, but keep doing what I like while slowly, but surely chipping away at my goals or go for broke in paradise with my fingers crossed that it doesn't turn out to be hell. I hate disappointing people, but as sad as it is this is exactly why I got into my last predicament and why I'm anxious about calling this guy and that's because they're the only people in my immediate life, a woman who I haven't seen in 3 weeks and a perfect stranger. How messed up is that? I'm not going to take it personal though. I'm going to stick to my guns and keep trying to do what I think is right. I'm not looking for a sweet deal, just a fair one. There are honest hard working people out there and I'm going to find them.



July 9, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
Geez, my heads a mess. I've got so many decisions bouncing around in here. Something occurred to me the other day when I was out doing errands while at the same time beating myself up like I always do for not feeling better and that was that it's completely normal to not feel great at the moment. I should have realized it years ago during transitional times like this. I told myself, "Of course, you're feeling uneasy. The work you had lined up for the rest of the summer ended prematurely and you're on your own in the world. Without a job, you have nothing. Feeling a little uneasy is a completely natural response to the circumstances. The walls feel like they're closing in because that's how the system is designed to make you feel. Don't react to it. Take your time and make a plan." All the people in the check out line were staring at me by now. Just kidding, I haven't started talking to myself, yet. At least, not in public. Regardless, it was good that I realized these things.

This afternoon as I was driving over to a farm here in Montague that I've never been to, I pulled into the little post office parking lot in the town center, first. Before leaving my house, I printed out a letter of introduction so I could leave one with my resume if there wasn't anyone around at the farm. Actually, I printed out a few of these letters and resumes and planned to drop by some other farms in the area as well. I've taken this type of initiative countless times over the years traveling from place to place and I always find work, but something was telling me to hold off. Was it the Hawaii job? No, all that option has been doing is making me apprehensive. I haven't called the owner, yet, but I'm pretty sure I'm going to thank him for the opportunity, but pass. Maybe we can re-visit the idea if I ever make it out there to see mr.Journeyman. What I began to realize is that I might be done handing out cover letters and resumes. My tiny house-tool hauler (that's like a toy hauler, but for tools) is my resume. This is what I want to use to find work. Anyone who can relate to why I've built something like this in order to live simply and work hard will probably get along with me just fine. I shouldn't spend a lot of dough on hard insulation, right now. That wouldn't be smart, but I already have all the lights and wiring for the trailer and this is the only thing keeping me from being able to head down the road. Installing them won't cost me anything other than time and energy and I've got plenty of both. I don't have to leave permanently, but maybe I'll meet some good people on some short trips. What's still left in the big plastic bins outside can stay here for now until I make enough money to start spending again without any stress. I can give away some more t-shirts, too. They're not very expensive to have made.

I pulled out of the post office parking lot and headed back to the field. The fact that all the people were wearing masks in the photos on the farm's website may, also, have had something to do with me not rushing over there to ask for a job.



July 17, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
If I had a tribe, I wouldn't need to write this. I could share what's going on in my life with actual people and they could share what's going on in theirs. In fact, there would be much less to talk about because we would already know what's going on with one another. We could simply exist together on a daily basis. That's what a tribe is for. Duh. Without one, I should keep writing if I want to make clear-headed decisions which is better than going through life like a pinball bouncing from one situation to another without any direction. I've bounced around enough as it is. Don't get me wrong, it can be liberating to not over analyze everything. There's been plenty of times over the years when I even thought about dumbing myself down, getting a decent paying job and tuning out. The problems of the world would be none of my concern. I could just pay my bills on time, see that my wife and children had what they needed, have a little fun with the guys once in a while and everything else would fall by the wayside not to be bothered with. Unfortunately as simple as this sounds, life's not this simple. Actually, life is, but this world isn't. The truth will not be ignored so if we try to block it out by living in a make believe world built on things other than the truth, the consequences of doing so will eventually come knocking at our door. I came to the conclusion a long time ago that, like it or not, we are responsible for what we are aware of. It just so happens that I'm aware of a lot which is why I couldn't dumb myself down and do all these things. This might be partly due to how much of a hyper observant freak I am, but another major reason is that if a person doesn't have a tribe, village or close family, they have no buffer between themselves in the great, big, messed up world with all its problems, dangers and distractions. This can be a lot to carry for one individual day in and day out especially while being constantly bombarded by negative information from the media. Some people feel they have no choice, but to tune it all out. Some try to distract themselves with a million different things, some use drugs or alcohol, some use overconsumption, some might even use drama. Some try their best to address a lot of issues by working towards positive change in the matters that bother them the most, but it can still feel overwhelming even when trying to do the right thing. It might even drive a person to resort to living off the grid in a tiny house parked in a secluded field while preparing to face the world and the truth head on every day.

Alright numb nuts, stop rambling. You've got to figure out what your next move is. Passed on the Hawaii job. The owner I spoke with seemed like a nice guy, but I couldn't justify contributing to the trend of taking over an island from its native population just to make a bunch of money. I'm relieved to get that off my table. It's mid-July and I wanted to be ready to leave by now. I'm not. Big surprise. But, I'm not in bad shape either so I'll keep working slow and steady in the right direction. I should have all the running lights mounted and wired by the end of the day. Then, I'll build some shelves for the shed and see how much I can get stored in it, paint, hardware, electrical, miscellaneous tools, etc. This should take care of everything that's under the trailer in bins. What's going in the loft inside is more household stuff. I can throw those bins on the back of the trailer where I planned to park a motorcycle because as much as I'd prefer to have a second vehicle with me on the road, that's not in the budget, right now. With everything loaded, I can go wherever I need to find work in the New England area or I can stay right here if I find enough locally. I think MissButterfly would like it if I stuck around. Yes, as reluctant as I am to mention this subject, I haven't rid myself of her completely.

She called me a few times last week and I eventually agreed to let her come over and talk. It went ok. Some good, some not so good. She insisted that I'm the only one she's been with since we last saw each other a month ago. We ended the conversation on nice terms. After I thought about it for another day alone, I decided to do some more stuff for her so I know beyond any doubt that I helped her out. Giving is better. Sadly, it's clear that she's just using me even though she may have convinced herself that she cares about me. I'm not convinced, but I like helping people and it gives me a little social interaction. In the meantime, I need to stay focused on getting myself in a situation where the people in my life actually do care about me and aren't just looking to take advantage of someone's generosity. There are givers and takers in this world. Most takers don't even see themselves as such. I need to find other givers. Easier said than done, but I know they exist because giving is better and there are people out there smart enough to have learned this, too.



July 21, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
As I continue to recognize other long standing patterns of thought that haven't been good for me, the most recent is so obvious that it's almost pointless to state. It's what this whole blog, all my travels and work have been aimed towards. There's nothing shocking about it, but until I saw the whole picture did it tie everything together. Again, it's no big surprise. If you take a lonely little kid and teach them that the only way to get love is by producing results, you might have a lonely, very hard working adult on your hands that won't allow themself to receive love unless they've produced the perfect result. That's pretty messed up. What if all my studying of how the world really works, all the books I've read, all the places I've been and jobs I've had come from one sole motivation? What if my unrelenting search for a universal moral code stems from the basic human need to belong? If I found the most all-encompassing natural law to live by that connects all people and every living thing on the planet together then maybe I won't feel so alone all the time.

I know I sound like the world's biggest wuss going on and on about loneliness, but I don't give a flying fig tree. I need to work through it. I can't care how it sounds. That's why this is anonymous. The grand canyon kicks my a** every morning and then waits in the wings all day long to yank the rug out from under me whenever it gets a chance because despite the soundness of any natural law I may try to subscribe to I am still disconnected from anyone else. I am still orbitless . The closest I come to mattering to anyone is having a job. Ok, ok, I've whined about this stuff plenty of times. How is this clearer view going to help me fight the same miserable battle I've been fighting day in and day out for decades? No.1. The reason it's so hard to keep working some days despite how lonely you get is because you're trying to solve your loneliness problem by working harder. You can't do this because you're not supposed to be alone all the time! You're not wired for it. It's completely unnatural. You can't fix yourself into living in a way that you're not supposed to live. It's out of the realm of a normal natural life. You'd have better chances jumping in the ocean hoping to grow gills. Get it through your head. You're not supposed to be alone! You're a social creature. Who or whatever taught you anything different is toxic. The fact that you've succeeded to live like this for so long is not proof that you're supposed to continue doing so. The short little intervals of joy and relief you've experienced, or even a month long stretch of it, are only encouraging you to work harder, sacrifice more and suffer longer, but you've had them despite how hard it's been, not because of it. When some random set of circumstances miraculously fall into place providing you with a little respite from the arduous path you've been on, you desperately try to recreate this scenario over and over while being miserable the whole time. This is not a solution. The wrong people or environment taught you to live like this. Stop relying on it.

How can I expect anyone to believe anything I say if what I believe doesn't result in an exceptionally happy, healthy, positive person? Here's the catch. What if the only way to become an exceptionally happy, healthy, positive person completely is to share my life with other people? What if no matter how hard I work, no matter how much I learn, no matter how much I accomplish, if my life isn't interwoven with the lives of others on a daily basis then I'll never reap the benefits of all my efforts? No matter! Ok, here's the next catch. This is when my mind quickly goes back to the conditional, result-driven, judgmental view of myself. Do this, whatever this happens to be, and then you'll be worthy of love, support, friendship, etc. Learning how to be productive and work hard is awesome. It's an amazing ability. I love to work and this is a very good thing. Too many people don't know the meaning of it, but being miserable while doing it is not a requirement.

Does any of this change a thing about my present situation? Nope, but, at least, I know that there's nothing wrong with me, that how I feel is completely normal.



July 22, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
Treating the symptoms will never cure the patient. Is it a doctor's foremost intention to heal their patients or to keep them dependent on medications that only mask their symptoms while the doctor and pharmaceutical companies get rich? This is a discussion for another day. I don't have a doctor and don't take medications other than like the antibiotics I took 14 years ago when I had an infection in my hand caused by a puncture wound from an owl. That's a story for another day. My point is if getting the trailer ready, finding my next job or hitting the road can feel daunting at times, it's because they do not address the problem directly. They are only symptoms. The problem is being disconnected from a group greater than myself. Accomplishing these tasks won't make me less lonely. In fact, being good at the things that allow me to live like I do have kept me alone. If I didn't have the ability to do them, I'd be forced to live like everyone else, no offense to everyone else. Yes, I could abandon the path I've been on all these years, right now, today, and immediately begin to fill my life with people. There's even someone just down the road who might be happy about this. Would it address the actual problem? In this instance, no. It's nice to physically be around someone, but I don't feel any less alone when I'm over there. This, however, hasn't always been the case with other people in the past, friends, extended family, previous girlfriends. Accomplishing tasks and working hard with people in my life is fun and almost effortless. I become an exceptionally happy, healthy, positive person when I'm working around others and they've all wanted me to stay, but I couldn't live like them. I couldn't turn a blind eye to how corrupt, wasteful and damaging the system has become. I believe I need to live as close to nature as possible, not in a box built for an artificial world. The only problem is that this belief has kept me alone my whole life. For years, I've told myself "Just get this done then you can find your tribe," but I'm still alone. I keep telling myself these days, "Head west where people are friendlier. It's too crowded in this part of the country. Being bunched together keeps everyone arguing with one another and weary of newcomers." This is why I'm so focused on getting ready so I can leave here.

Regardless of the tasks at hand, recognizing the real problem and making it my no.1 priority rather than only focusing on the symptoms is what will improve my day to day existence. Loneliness is what I'm at war with, first and foremost. Wah. For someone who believes in living according to Mother Nature, I've been living contrary to the nature inside me for too long. If I can teach myself how to build stuff and fix things, I can teach myself how to have more people in my life. I can look for my tribe and work on the trailer while I change this bad habit.

Had a cucumber salad for lunch, this afternoon, completely made with fresh organic veggies grown right on the back of my trailer. That was fun. Finished installing the shelves in the porch shed this evening and emptied the bins under the trailer onto them. Everything fit! Made a new rear bumper and mounted brake/turn lights and the license plate on it as well. I'll be heading to Kingston on Friday to work on mr.Finance's property and dogsit for them while he and his family are vacationing in Yellowstone Park for a week. After that, it's all about finding as much work as I can.

I've contemplated taking the tiny house with me to the south shore, but if I'm going to keep the yukon I'd like to put some heavier duty rear shocks in it, first. It's probably fine the way it is for short local trips, but if I'm going to pull the 30' trailer for almost 3hrs into a very crowded area, I should do some work on the truck or get a different one. There's always something else to do, but this is what true freedom requires.



July 28, 2024, Kingston, Massachusetts
I thought I'd be able to grab a power nap when I got back from dropping off mr.Finance and family at Logan airport at 6 this morning, but I still haven't slept. It could be the overstimulation of being in such a fancy house with all this technology and creature comforts surrounding me. I remember during different cross-country trips when I was traveling on foot, once in a while I'd force myself to get a hotel room to clean up, regroup and hopefully get some sleep, but I never had much luck in the sleep department. Maybe the novelty has to wear off first which can take a while if I'm not used to all this. It's a big contrast compared to how I normally live. I can see how all these amenities can make a person lazy and complacent. It's almost too easy. Might as well do some laundry before I start work, tomorrow. At least, I can use a washing machine and dryer instead of a sink, a scrub brush and hanging everything off the back of a chair, #mlr .



July 29, 2024, Kingston, Massachusetts
I've been sweating buckets and putting in a lot of hours on mr.Finance's property this week, but I took the day off, today. I hadn't planned on it, but I had to. I found out on Saturday that one of my cousins past away and his funeral was this morning. There was no way I was going to miss it. He was a lot older than me, almost more like an uncle than a cousin. Like all of my extended family, growing up I only saw him a couple times a year around the holidays and a lot less than this as an adult. Despite having not seen him in a long time, his sister still included me in the small group who were invited to his service so I put in a 13 hour day, yesterday, so I could attend. His death is very sad. He was too young to die alone drinking daily until his body gave out. They found him a few days later in my aunt's house where he's been living since she passed away years ago. Selfishly, I'm lucky to have missed this last chapter of his life. I can remember him how he used to be, outgoing with lots of energy. I spoke with his two sisters a little bit over the last few days on the phone and again today. I'm going to try to make some more time for them before I leave as well. I feel like more needs to be said. More needs to be understood. My job is only to listen.

It was very hot, today, especially in a buttoned-down shirt. I've been taking Kali, mr.Finance's German short-haired pointer, with me to work, but I left her at the house, today, so she didn't cook in the yukon while I was at the funeral and having lunch with my cousins afterwards. I got cooked though driving back from the city. I felt pretty spoiled peeling off my dress clothes and diving into the pool when I got here, not to mention getting to jump in at the end of each day working in the woods all week. It feels so good and refreshing like I'm staying in a fancy resort. I could even take the boat out for a ride in the ocean if I wanted, but I don't see the point without anyone to share it with. I did enough of that solo growing up. You don't have to be rich to be spoiled. This area is a lot different now.

I think Mr.Finance is going to be psyched when he sees how much I've gotten done. I'm going to put in another day, tomorrow, but the bulk of the job is complete, a lot of chainsaw work, running an industrial sized chipper, one you can feed whole trees into, then moving and grading dirt with a skid-steer. He's not going to recognize the place. It's still 9 acres of wooded land, but it, now, has a natural looking clearing hidden under a canopy of giant trees deep within the middle of it.

At one point on Tuesday with my clothes drenched in sweat like I'd just done 8 hrs of bikram yoga, it dawned on me that mr.Finance has two teenage boys who could be doing this work. They're tall strapping lads, 17 and 19, strong and athletic, but they work at the golf course in their neighborhood in between their hockey and lacrosse games and I'm there in the woods busting my butt alone. I'm definitely not complaining. I'm very thankful for the work, but it did seem a little weird that I was doing it by myself when it could be the perfect father and son, or sons, kind of a job to tackle. No worries. Different priorities I suppose. I like work. I just need to do less of it alone.

Speaking of this, missButterfly called me, today. She wants me to work with her next week. She's a stone mason which she learned from her father. Her partner was his right hand man for years until she and he became a couple and went out on their own. She's had her hands full with their two children for the past three years, but she's at the point, now, where she has no choice, but to start working more. She can't live off their savings forever. She did a chimney rebuild with her father who's semi-retired and another ol'timer, this week, which went well and she's got a couple other jobs lined up this month that are big enough that she could use some help so she asked me. I've done plenty of stone work over the years and I like the physical nature of it, but getting more involved with her is risky. I told her we can talk about it when I get back to western Mass.

I've been to "church" a couple times since returning to the south shore and I even re-activated my old facebook account to let friends I grew up with know that I'm in town for the week. I never bothered making the shift to instagram. I'm not interested in any more social media, but I figured it was good practice to keep making efforts to have more people in my life. It was nice to get over 70 likes and messages on the first day. I know it's not real, but it still felt good. What a messed up world we live in. I'll deactivate it at the end of the week when I leave here. Drove down to Scituate harbor on Sunday evening to hang out with mr.Striper on his boat. GreenGiant met us there, too. He's another close friend of our friend who we lost 18yrs ago. He's a 6'5 organic landscaper. I'm sure he'd be embarrassed if he heard me say this, but he's probably the nicest, politest, most sincere guy you could ever meet. I've, also, posted on a couple of permaculture, off the grid community websites about my interest in meeting like-minded people who might, also, be heading west in the near future in search of the perfect place to live and I've gotten a number of responses. One was even from a young woman who sent me her picture interested in dating me, but it turns out she's polyamorous so I explained to her that I'm not and passed on continuing a correspondence. Anyways, I'm trying to make a change and it seems to be helping.



August 3, 2024, Kingston, Massachusetts
I've enjoyed my mini-work-vacation so much that I mowed the lawn and cleaned the pool for mr.Finance this afternoon before I left for the airport to pick him up and his family of 5. Grass grows fast this time of year and we had a couple of windy days so there were enough leaves in the pool to merit a cleaning. I couldn't just tell myself "Not my house, not my responsibility." It felt good to do it and I like feeling good. I brought Kali with me to the airport who they were all very happy to see. I think Kali was happier to see them. She had fun with me, but I didn't feel comfortable letting her run free in the woods on the property where I was working. At mr.Finance's suggestion, I took her for a long hike in the woods near their house the first day after they left and she took off on me. After over an hour of looking, I finally found her, but I wasn't taking any more chances. He gave me a super long line to bring with me to the property so she'd have plenty of range to roam while I worked, but it's still not the same as letting her run completely free. Plus, I was constantly having to untangle her from getting wrapped around trees and bushes. I'm sure she still preferred it to staying home by herself all day, but I felt bad that I couldn't just unclip her and let her take off. I would've if she was my dog because this is how you build trust with an animal, but this takes time, longer than a week, which is accompanied by some trial and error initially. She's not my dog and I couldn't risk losing her in such a busy area or, God forbid, having her get hit by a car so I had to play it safe. I'm sure we'll bring her with us when we head over to the property in the morning to go over what I got done and mr.Finance will let her run free as soon as we get there. It usually takes us a while to find her when it's time to leave, but eventually she shows back up. This is the prerogative an owner has.

MissButterfly called, again, this morning. As eager as I've been to put this situation behind me, I need to keep a healthy perspective on it which requires me to continue writing about it. If I don't, I could lose my bearings which could be dangerous. She told me that she misses me and is looking forward to seeing me which was nice to hear. Even though she continues to assert that she's not looking nor is she ready for a serious relationship, she's making a considerable amount of effort and it's difficult for me to ignore how hard she's trying. It may be part of a letting go process since her loss because what she's doing touches on more than one level. On the surface, it just seems like desire because she wants to be with me physically, but she's, also, been open about how it's hard for her to come to terms with any emotional attraction towards another man because she still loves her "husband." She and I are very different when it comes to how we treat people so I can't see how it could ever work as an actual relationship, at least, not without me abandoning some values that are important to me, real complicated ones like "Please" and "Thank you" which don't seem to be in her vocabulary, but I'm completely single and having a woman wanting to spend time with me, even a woman whose behavior has been as questionable as hers, seems better than spending too much time alone. At least, this is what I've been trying out. I hate to confess that if I had any friends or family in my day to day life, I'm sure I would have put a stop to things a long time ago. Being here where I grew up and doing some work for a friend this past week has been a much needed reminder that these circumstances are still only temporary. Hopefully.

On a side note, the whole matter is lighting a fire under my butt to get the trailer finished as soon as possible so I can get the heck out of here for good before she hits me with yet another inconsiderate surprise. I hate to look at it this way, but it's the truth. Short of getting angry and forcibly telling her to stay out of my life which I won't bring myself to do, I'm just going to have to deal with her advances while I'm still here. Poor baby. To make matters stickier, missFlowerchild texted me last night and wanted to know where I was so she could drop off her son with me. I haven't heard from her since last spring when she was in Montague visiting her sick friend and there's actually a few small tools missing from the bin I was letting her son use. I'd hate to accuse a little boy of stealing, but I looked for these things for weeks before remembering that I let him use the markers that were in that bin. He was constantly asking me if he could have one thing or another while he was rummaging through all my other belongings while I was outside and, now, some things are missing. I'm not going to say anything because it's not his fault if she hasn't taught him that stealing is unacceptable behavior. I'm sure she's well aware of it already. Takers take even when they know not what they do. I've just got to get out of here and find other givers.

Living in such luxury for a week has been a little surreal. The experience has been accompanied by a false sense of security where everything is done for you with the push of a button or the flip of a switch. As comforting as it's been, I'm looking forward to being back in my own house, even if it's a tiny one. I've got some more work lined up when I get back from the fliers I posted around town earlier this summer.



August 3, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
I'm very happy and content, tonight, lying here in bed on top of the covers under the open window listening to the symphony of crickets, cicadas and peepers. I got home earlier this evening when it was still light out. There was a car parked in my spot by the barn when I arrived so I pulled in behind it. It was missButterfly's. To my surprise, she had decided that sitting on my porch was how she wanted to wait for me to come home. I have to admit that she was a vision. I was already having a good day at the end of a good week, aside, of course, from my older cousin passing away which is going to take some time to get over, but having someone waiting for me at my house took the day to another level. It was a combination of everything, her, working, making some decent money, getting to see a bunch of friends, receiving a few emails from people across the U.S., having more work lined up this week and my vegetables are popping. There are so many cucumbers and tomatoes that I won't have to buy lunch for a week. The carrots and watermelons are ready, too. All mr.Finance kept saying was "Wow" with a big smile on his face as we walked around looking at the property this morning. That's the best reaction to get from any customer, let alone a good friend.



August 9, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
I've had a lot of jobs in a lot of places all across the country over the years, too many to count, but I've never once worked with someone who I was involved with. For the past three days, I have. If I'm being honest, I have to confess that I've never enjoyed a job this much. It goes without saying that I love very physical work so carrying 5 gallon buckets of bricks up and down a 20 foot ladder all day is my kind of work, but doing it for a young lady who first of all is a bad a** stone mason and second of all wants to tear my clothes off has been so fun that it felt like we were doing something illegal. How can work feel this good? Having lunch together was even better. Of course, she's using me a little because we're using my truck to haul all the tools and materials. I pick her up every morning, drop her off every night and she's going to make a lot of money from the job, but I already accepted this.

On our way home yesterday evening as I was pulling off the dirt road she lives on, I put the yukon in park at the bottom of her steep rocky driveway in the woods. We were both in tears because I told her that it was time to say "Good-bye." We had been arguing for the whole ride. It wasn't the bad kind of arguing, if there is such a thing. It was only because I refused to let her pay me. She just couldn't understand why I won't take any money from her. I can't. She needs so much more help which I haven't given her. Not letting her pay me is the only way I can leave here with a clear conscience knowing that I didn't do all the other things for her. When I first confessed this, she tried to negotiate a better deal for herself. She wanted to exchange paying me for having me work on her tractor instead. The girl's got a lot of nerve. I'll give her that, always wheeling and dealing even when I'm sincerely trying to find closure to my predicament.

As hard as it was to see her that upset, it revealed that she does have feelings for me even if she can't see how inconsiderate her behavior can be. This was the first time she'd ever shown this kind of emotion towards me. As tragic as what happened to her life partner was and as traumatic as it was for her and her children, she is still in other ways a very lucky person. We didn't work, today. It rained so I spent it alone cleaning my truck, my house and lining up work for next week. She spent it with her father, her children and her brother all processing firewood together as a family with tractors, log splitters and her dad's big dump truck which he'll use to bring the split wood to each of their houses. That's pretty friggin' awesome. Bittersweet for me because it's the kind of life I've always dreamed of having, but I'm still very happy for her. She's just not the girl for me. She grew up here and knows everyone. There's plenty of guys she can get with and probably will once I'm completely out of the picture. The chimney we rebuilt was on a house next to an auto repair shop and she'd stop what she was doing for a couple of seconds everytime a truck with a working class dude driving it pulled in so she could check him out. All day long she did this. Of course, the guys were all gawking at her, too, a pretty little thing in tight jeans and a tank top on a roof in the hot sun laying brick. I'm surprised she didn't cause an accident. I never said a word. More power to her.

We've got a few last things to do to the chimney tomorrow which shouldn't take too long then will tear down the ladders and staging and that will be it. We should be done in plenty of time for her monthly bonfire party tomorrow night, but I won't be going. She can't keep her hands off me when we're alone, on the job, even, now, in front of her kids, but around her friends she doesn't come near me with a ten foot pole. I'm just another one of her friends. She probably acts this way to keep her options open for when I'm gone so I'll make it easy for her and not be there. Who knows how many other "friends" like me she has. I can't take issue with this. She's not my girlfriend. I just don't want to be mixed up in it anymore. In hindsight, this is how she got me in her life in the first place, by playing the field. She admitted the other day that she checked me out as I was walking across the little dirt parking lot in front of the store last summer before we ever said "Hello" when we first met. I was naive to think it was fate. The other reason I can't complain is because I've still never asked her out. I've never wanted to. We're just too different, but have still managed to make the most of the situation. She's just better at maximizing what she gets out of it than I am. Home court, home team advantage. You don't have to be rich to be spoiled. I need to find my own home and my own team. Someday.

Called missFlowerchild, at the beginning of the week, and left a voicemail, but never heard back. I even shared this with missButterfly because unlike her I don't like keeping secrets. There's no way I was letting missFlowerchild come visit, again, but I've learned that you can still show up in a person's life so they know you care even if they're not going to get what they're trying to get from you.

Too many people focus on what they want rather than what they need. This is the difference between heart and mind . One is constantly trying to get what it wants while the other is only concerned with what you need. One list is endless. One is very short. Food, water, shelter, people. If we let the wrong one rule our life, we'll never be happy even though we might amass a lot of things, but no matter how much we accumulate it'll never fill the void that not having our basic needs met creates. If we let the right one rule, happiness is as simple as laying down these needs like four cornerstones and building our lives upon them.



August 10, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
Once someone else's reality becomes yours, it's very easy to find yourself lost. Three days of working with missButterfly was pushing it. Luckily, it rained, yesterday, so I had a day to myself. We talked in the afternoon and she asked if I'd work, today, and I told her that I would, but I never heard from her so I left around 10:30am to do some errands. As luck would have it, after leaving the bank I drove by the hardware store and saw her car parked there so I pulled in. I brought all my tools with me just in case she called while I was out. She was picking up a cap for the chimney job, but she had Firefly with her and they were going to go grocery shopping next then do some browsing at the thrift store then maybe stop by a farmstand on the way home. I guess calling to let me know that we weren't working today wasn't a big priority for her. She was all over me in the store which felt good in an unhealthy kind of way. Her monthly party is tonight, but I didn't go. I'm sitting here typing on my laptop like a lonely nutjob, instead. The messed up thing is I actually felt rude for not attending, but, now, I'm finally pulling out of that distorted reality and coming back into my own which granted is a lot quieter and slower paced, but contains all my values firmly in place which is a lot better in a solemn, but hopeful kind of a way.

I built a removable table that fits inside the big deck box on the back of the trailer where I keep all my power tools, this afternoon. The table holds my smaller tools like drills, sander, rotor, jig saw, etc. on top of it, but I can lift it up and out to access my larger ones stored underneath like my chainsaw, welder, air compressor, etc. I'm pretty happy with it. It's a lot better than piling them on top of each other and having to dig through them when I need one. At one point this afternoon, I was tempted to drive into Turners Falls where missButterfly's chimney job is and do all the things she needs me to do, but I had already started my table project when I thought of this. I wish I had gotten the idea earlier because then I'd be done with my part of her job which is some remaining carpentry and roofing then all I'd have to do is help her take down the staging and load everything into my truck. Oh well, she'll probably call eventually sometime in the morning and ask me to work, tomorrow, which is a Sunday. I already told one of my customers that I'd check in with them, but hopefully I can start their job on Monday.

I used to feel envious and out-numbered by all the support she has while I'm just one person by myself in a town where I don't know anyone -wah, but, now, I'm starting to feel a little proud that I've been able to hold my own against such lopsided odds even if my ability to do so has been inconsistent. I hate to think of it as me against them, but when people don't show any consideration for my well-being and only want to get something from me someone's got to look out for my interest and it's definitely not going to be them so I have to do it. These elements to situations where I'm an outsider are factors I've always been aware of as I've traveled from place to place, but being here longer than I've wanted while building my little homestead on wheels that will be carrying all my life's possessions has made me susceptible to the advantage she has over me.

Her father and 6 yr old Firefly even came by the job site on Thursday and climbed up on the roof with us. I thought this was wonderful for her. It was so nice to see them up there as a family. Being pretty crowded on the limited staging we had, I was immediately in the way, a menial helper. I'm realizing that I'm only an accessory to her already full life. I'm nothing to them. It's a shame to view it this way, but I've been very considerate towards her and everyone, but they've never asked me anything about myself. As much as I need the money, this is another reason why I won't let her pay me. I don't want to give her, her family or friends anything to hold over me. Maybe it's just a matter of living in the same area for a long time and not knowing what it's like to be on their own. I don't know, but as hard as it is to not help her as much as I'd like, I've got to start looking out for myself more and the only way to do this is to give myself other options. I haven't gotten any new responses to my online postings since last week so I've got to think of other ways to meet new people.



August 11, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
Well, we finished the job, this afternoon. It didn't take very long, about an hour or so. It wasn't as fun as working together has been. We were both a little stand-offish with one another, not rude or unpleasant, just a little less friendly and flirty than we have been, but neither of us acknowledged the change. It was understood. We didn't need to talk about it. We both knew the deal. She finally gave in when I was getting some tools out of the yukon with my back to her by coming up behind me and wrapping her arms around me. I didn't stop her. I just made a light-hearted joke and gently kept working. When we were almost done loading up the truck, I finally gave in, too, and held her for a moment.

We talked on the way home about how to proceed from here. She asked if we could spend a little more time together like go for a swim before heading to her house to unload the ladders and staging so we stopped at my place, which is on the way, and walked up the field to the brook in the woods behind my house. We went skinny dipping, but nothing happened. She wanted us to, but I didn't let it go there. Instead, we sat and talked wrapped up in our towels sitting on a big log with my arm around her then we walked back through the woods talking some more and holding hands both acknowledging how nice what we've shared is, as difficult and challenging as it's been at times. She made it clear that she wanted to see as much of me as possible before her dude in PA comes back up to stay with her, but I told her that wasn't an option. This all needs to stop.

I confessed earlier in the afternoon that I'd written her a song. It was about us. It was the easiest song I've ever written. It came together in about 30 minutes as I sat in my house with the rain coming down on Friday afternoon. I thought about attending her bonfire potluck last night and playing it for her. Some of her friends usually jam a little during the party, but I've never really clicked with her crowd and I didn't want to make a scene or compete for attention so I decided not to, but as corny as it is I played it for her up on the sundeck of the tiny house after our swim. She cried a little, smiled and thanked me as we sat up there hugging some more wrapped in a blanket.

The clock was ticking because her mother would be back with the kids soon so we decided to get going. They pulled in with one of Damselfly's friends along, too, just as we finished unloading everything which was probably good timing because being alone at her house was pushing my luck. She asked if I'd like to stay for dinner, but I told her that I should probably get going so she said "Ok" as we both said good-bye with our eyes. Of course, before I left, she tried to renegotiate me not letting her pay me with other things that she'd like me to do for her, but I just told her that I'll think about it and left. She'll be fine. She's good at getting people, that is, men, to do things for her. Just this morning, two of the guys who were at last night's party hung around and did some projects for her before I got there to pick her up for work.

The day went well. It was sweet. I actually think this whole experience has been harder for me than it has been for her which I now realize is what I stated I wanted last fall when I got back from Costa Rica because none of it compares to what she's already been through. I guess I should be careful what I wish for. She may not have gotten everything she wanted from me, but I think it helped her. At least, this is what she's led me to believe by thanking me for my patience and caring. We never used the "L" word, but it was in the air. I call this a victory.



August 15, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
It's been raining a lot recently so I'm waiting for a couple dry days to drive the yukon up into the field and move the tiny house. I probably won't bring it down to the road yet, but I want to make sure I've gotten everything out from under it and throw some grass seed down on the spot where it's been parked since last winter which is now completely bare. I've still got some things to do that will require me to crawl under the trailer so it'll be nice to do this in a new location on grass rather than muddy dirt.

I drove to Maine, yesterday, to renew my driver's license so during the 3hr trip I listened to this year's blog in its entirety. What a mess. It was embarrassing to hear myself go back on my word over and over after adamantly saying that I wasn't going to get involved with missButterfly anymore. Then a week or two later, I'd walk back through that revolving door again even after what I went through in June. This is not healthy behavior and very disappointing. I've acknowledged countless times how under the present circumstances writing helps me, but if I don't take my own advice what's the point? Using this tool every few days gives me perspective at those particular moments, but listening to the last 7 months in one sitting gave me a broader view on patterns that I haven't been as aware of as I should be. As narcissistic as it is, until I have others to share my life with so we can help hold one another accountable, I should read or listen to everything I write covering a larger span of time. It's not pretty. Looking in the mirror rarely is when we don't like what we see, but this is the only way to recognize when I need to make a change.

The grand canyon still kicks my a** every morning, but once I pull through this, I hate to say it, the rest of my days have been much happier and peaceful since I parted ways with her. The closer to becoming self-contained I become, the more glimpses of January I'm experiencing. She called last night and twice the day before, but I haven't seen her or taken her up on any of her offers and she and the kids will be going on a vacation to the Cape this weekend so after tomorrow I won't have to deal with anymore unexpected visits for a little while. I'm very thankful that we were able to end things on good terms and I want the best for her, but she's probably going to keep trying to get what she wants from me as long as I'm still here so the better I'm doing the kinder I can be towards her without giving in to her advances. I might even be able to help her in ways she'd never expect.

I got a second email, today, from a young lady farmer/traveler (not the one who sent a photo of herself) who responded to one of my online posts a couple weeks ago. She's out in Missouri, at the moment, but she told me about a national conference for intentional communities being held in Virginia. I've visited a lot of these types of places all across the U.S. over the years, but I've never been to the one where the conference is being held even though I've always been curious about it. It's very big and has been around for a long time. I'm not sure conferences like this are entirely my scene, but a lot of ic's (intentional communities) are into farming, homesteading and living off the grid which are all very important components to the life I want to continue living so I'm sure I'd get a lot out of going. The conference is in two weeks which gives me plenty of time to get down there with the tiny house, but I don't have as much money saved up as I'd like to have before indefinitely hitting the road so leaving here with it might be jumping the gun. I can still go without it. I'll sleep on it and then decide.



August 17, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
I'm having another January moment, tonight. Put in half a day's work for a customer, came home, fed the horses (missLuna is away for a couple of days), had lunch, did laundry, worked on the trailer, cleaned up my "yard" after moving the tiny house, yesterday, cooked up some dinner, watched part of a movie and, now, I'm so happy sitting on the porch in the dark listening to the crickets that I can barely contain myself. I'm not assuming that it's going to last. I'm just appreciating that it's happening, right now. Tomorrow's another day.

I feel like some of my recent entries haven't had enough of an uplifting undercurrent and though I try to be as honest as possible when I write even when things aren't going great I, also, try to focus on keeping a positive attitude at the same time. The mind is just a computer and I'm deliberately programming mine to view situations in this way as much as possible. This is what I need to keep doing.



August 25, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
Progress is going well. Of course, it's never as much as I'd like, but I'm enjoying walking around the house in the evenings looking at what I got done that day or just sitting in my chair as the sun goes down taking in the moment. Tonight, I even climbed up on the sundeck and sat for a while. There's a neat pile of scrap metal in the field next to the tiny house that I'll either bring to the junkyard for a couple bucks or give it to someone local who collects metal, but other than that and a few other odds and ends that I'll either give away or throw away, everything else is on the back of the trailer or in the house. After I built the loft earlier this week, I was able to get what was left in bins put away inside. It's a pretty good feeling. Heading down the road is a lot different than just moving the tiny house around in the field, but the yukon handled it better than I expected so that was nice to discover. My tentative plan is to head to Home Depot in Hadley this week and park there with the tiny house in tow and see if I can find some short term work. I'm pretty sure mr.Finance would love it if I headed back to Kingston, rented a skid steer, again, and did some more work on his property, but east towards the crowded south shore is the opposite direction that I want to be heading. I suppose I could leave the tiny house here and head over for a few days, but I'd rather pull up stakes if I can be ready by then even if I don't go far than pay for another month.

There's plenty of things I can do to be productive wherever I decide to park. That's the beauty of having all my tools with me and room to work on stuff. Organizing the shed better is something I've been wanting to do since I stored all my fasteners, hardware and paint in it a couple of weeks ago. The more organized I am, the better I feel.



August 29, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
I applied online for a farm delivery job this afternoon located back in Maine so I might head over there later tonight so I can introduce myself in person to whoever's doing the hiring in the morning. It's a very big place about as corporate as a farm can get. The online application was very robotic which makes a person feel like just a number, but I filled it out anyway. I briefly worked there years ago while my mother was battling cancer before having to quit to take care of her. I thought I was done doing the handshake-cover letter thing and maybe I am, but I need to cover all my bases. I can't afford to miss out on an opportunity to work especially if it's on a farm. Not pursuing the job nearby that I was curious about last month was the right call. Even one of my recent customers who knows the owner told me that he's a very difficult person to work for before she even knew I'd considered working there so my instincts were right.

This week I finished building a rack on the side of the shed to hang my yard tools like shovels, hoes, maul, pick ax, etc. and it came out great. Two wooden arms swing open to retrieve a tool and swing closed to lock them all into place when I'm traveling down the road. All add some foam padding on the inside of the arms to minimize rattling.

I haven't been writing as much as I should the last couple weeks -how many times have I said this? But, the month is just about over and time is a factor. My mind needs to be as clear as possible before deciding what to do next. The tiny house and trailer are loaded and I'm pleasantly surprised by how uncluttered my homestead on wheels is. Even with all my vegetables growing in containers, there's still enough room for a motorcycle if I had the money to buy one. For now, I'll just have to rely on my mountain bike and trailer as a second vehicle if I need one. The new batch of cucumbers I planted the other day have already begun to sprout. I got a great crop from my first planting and still have some growing on the vines, but they're just about done producing so I decided to start more hoping I'll be in a warmer climate by harvest time. Sprinkled down some grass on the bare spot in the field where the tiny house was parked and it's already started to grow.

I'm concerned about how the trailer is going to handle bumps with the 4 feet of extra length I added this winter in order to give myself more room for larger items. I'm not going to store anything heavy on this section. It's only there to keep the end of the kayak from sticking out past the bumper and give me floor space to work on stuff when I'm parked, but I won't know until I hit the road if the trailer is going to turn into a giant diving board when I hit my first bump. If it does, oh well. I'm not going to shorten it, now. My solution will be to sleep during the day and drive ridiculously slow on back roads during the late night and early morning hours when no one else is on the road. I bought some industrial grade casters (that's just a fancy word for wheels) which I'll install to the undercarriage just behind the bumper so if I'm ever pulling in or out of an area where the ground is unlevel the end of the trailer won't drag, but roll smoothly instead. Hopefully. We'll see. #mlr. Labor day weekend begins tomorrow and I don't have anything fun planned, but that's life for a one man caravan. I don't have the money to spend it on anything other than survival anyways, but the tiny house is mobile and functional so I'm thankful and surprisingly calm about all the uncertainty at the moment. I've had friends call my life a social experiment which I can't argue with, but sometimes it, also, feels like a poker game gambling security and stability on my faith in the unknown. Losing my nerve is not an option. You can't win if you take your money off the table too early and you can't play if you don't lay it down.



August 31, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
Got back from Maine last night. Stopped by my buddy's after leaving the farm. He said I could park my tiny house out back near his shop temporarily, but I don't want to crowd his yard so I'm going to make some flyers and post something online. He lives right on a busy main road in North Yarmouth and always working on trucks and equipment. We've known each other a long time. He was like a little brother when we were younger and I know he gets upset easily so I don't want to add to this by having my trailer in the way, but it's been years so it was still nice to see him, his wife, son and the family dog, Nina, who I picked up for them when she was a puppy in Texas years ago. She's an Australian shepherd and they have very good memories so it's always fun to watch her come bombing down the driveway barking in a protective way then recognize me and go crazy with excitement.

I decided not to drive to Maine Thursday night to introduce myself in person, but it didn't matter. I got an email from them at 6am the next morning telling me that I was hired. Neither of the current managers worked there when I did years ago so we still needed to meet in person to go over stuff and do paperwork so I drove over late morning, yesterday, to make it official. Now, I need to get the tiny house over there once I find a nice spot to park it so I'll hold off on doing it this weekend. That would complicate things unnecessarily. I don't mind crashing in my yukon until I've got something good lined up then come back and get it. I can park at my buddy's if it's just my truck. The only issue with leaving the tiny house here is my vegetables. I normally carry them over to the sunniest spot in the field during the day then put them back on the trailer at night so the deer don't eat them. They get a fair amount of sun on the back of the trailer so leaving them there is not the end of the world, but I'll have to ask missLuna if she'll water them a couple times during the week which I'm sure she'd be happy to do. I just hate asking people to do things for me. I know I have issues, but it's not all people, just people I don't know well enough. Anyways, I've got a job and that's the important thing.

The farm's a gigantic place with a million dollar budget funded by some fancy non-profit which is another reason why I didn't want to work there long last time, but they have housing for the seasonal workers from other countries so there's a chance they might offer to let me park my tiny house somewhere on the land, but I'm going to wait until the present staff gets to know me and realizes what kind of worker I am before feeling out that possibility. I don't start 'til Tuesday ("Voices carry...") so I've got a few days to figure stuff out. Decided not to go to Virginia, but I was leaving the option open right up until yesterday before finding this opportunity so I'm glad I didn't leave. They only need someone until Oct.31st and I can work 6 days a week if I want so I'm relieved that I can focus on replenishing my finances for the next two months without having to quit a job.

I need to say "Good-bye" to missButterfly before I leave which isn't going to be easy. I haven't seen her in a while. She went away for Labor Day to the coast, but she still calls and emails and there were plenty more unexpected pop-in's before she left. I think it'll be ok. She's had a heavy weekend. It's the anniversary of her husband passing away and, right now, she and the kids are at the same vacation spot where they were before the accident happened so I've tried to be available to her as much as I can without getting too involved. She wanted me to go with them, but it was better that I didn't. Her mother and a bunch of her friends drove over as well.

As we approached the spot where we lost 'Him', I voiced these feelings to 'my daughter' and realized maybe I need to face this fear of being alone and vulnerable. And now I am here in the house that we spent the last week of 'his' life, grateful that we made it here safely, I realize how much I still need to process to let go and move on. And of course I am thinking a lot about you too. About how I respect you and appreciate the love, tenderness, care and standards you have shared with me. I graciously and eagerly accepted all that you freely gave to me, and I loved you for it. But everything I have tried to give to you, you have refused... I know that we can come up with a better ending than this because we both care. Thinking of you and sending you love, 'missButterfly'.



Monday, September 2, 2024, Gray, Maine
Made it to the grocery store before it closed to grab lunch for tomorrow. Drove to Maine late night. Park'n ride, Gray.

Tuesday, September 3, 2024, North Yarmouth, Maine
Started new job, 5:45am. Crashed outback at my buddy's after work.

Wednesday, September 4, 2024, North Yarmouth, Maine
After one day of "training", they gave me my own routes. I already know more than half of the grocery stores that the farm delivers to from past farms I've worked on, not to mention that many of the grocery stores used to be mine when I lived in that part of Maine. It was fun to see some familiar faces and places.

Thursday, September 5, 2024, Gray, Maine
Went for a swim in Crystal Lake after work. Washed my hair sitting in the front seat of my truck while I was still dripping wet. #mlr . Park'n ride in Gray.



Friday, September 6, 2024, Gray, Maine
When I walked into the farm office at the end of the day, there was a weird vibe in the air as the manager and assistant manager who were standing in the middle of the room both turned and looked at me as I opened the door. I acknowledged it.
"Hi, am I interrupting something?"
"No actually, to be honest, we were talking about you."
They explained that they're hoping I'll stick around through the winter. Without giving them a definite answer, I told them that I'd think about it.

Rest/service area on I95. The park'n ride is too sketchy. A lot of them are these days, but rest areas with a gas station and fast food restaurants weed out a lot of the creeps and morons and are used primarily for what they're intended for, rest, so this one might be my go-to solution for a quiet place to sleep. I was planning on heading back to western Mass tonight, but they asked me to work tomorrow. Well, they didn't ask. They just put me on the schedule without telling me. I only inadvertently found out when another driver and I were loading pallets at the end of the day for Saturday deliveries and he mentioned that my name was on the print out we were using. I immediately walked over to the office to tell them that I never agreed to work on Saturday. In fact, I told the assistant manager when she hired me that I need to head back to Mass on the weekends. I reminded her that I need two days off in a row so I can finish moving up to Maine. Once I'm settled, I told her I could even work 6 days a week, but not until then. It was clear that me not working tomorrow was going to make things very difficult for them so I agreed to do it as long as my days off were in a row moving forward and they thanked me for being flexible.



Saturday, September 7, 2024, Montague, Maine
Before I left for the weekend, I made sure I explained to the manager that I took the job because it had a definite end date and that I was planning on heading west as soon as the job was over so they didn't get their hopes up that I might stay for the winter. Asked if it would be ok if I put some of my vegetables I have growing in containers in the farm's greenhouse. Drove 4hrs back to my tiny house in the field after work. Took the back roads. The rude way people drive on the freeway makes for a less enjoyable trip. When I'm not alone, it's easier to ignore, but by myself it's an obvious reminder of where we're headed as a society. It felt so good to sleep in my own bed.



Monday, September 9, 2024, Gray, Maine
Did laundry, went grocery shopping, got the hardware I'll need to install the casters on the back of the trailer, felt bad about deciding not to see missButterfly while I was in town, made her a card and dropped it in the mail, loaded my peppers and tomatoes into the yukon. The nights and mornings are starting to get cold. Drove back to Maine late night. Rest/service area on I95. It was a little crowded in the yukon with the 5 gallon buckets of tall vegetable plants growing out of them, but it smelled nice. #mlr

Tuesday, September 10, 2024, Gray, Maine
Rest/service area on I95.

Wednesday, September 11, 2024,Gray, Maine
Rest/service area on I95.

Thursday, September 12, 2024, Gray, Maine
The grand canyon got worse. I was waking up in a panic all last week, but after about ten minutes it would subside. This week's been a little better. Someday I'll be done with this. Rest/service area on I95.



Friday, September 13, 2024, Gray, Maine
I've been working 11hr days on average, but got out early, today. I've been there a week and they've already got me training new people. Had a long talk on the phone with missButterfly, this evening. She's hoping we can spend some more time together when I get back, but what's his name is coming to stay with her for a week or two soon and I told her weeks ago that I need to be long gone before that happens. I've told her over and over that I don't get involved in these types of situations, but if I give in to her advances how can I expect her to respect my wishes. The night before I left to start the job in Maine, she arranged it that her children would be staying with family and she wanted me to come over for dinner, but I wouldn't so she came over to my house instead. We talked and I picked up on plenty more of her half-truths, but didn't bother calling her out on them. Honesty takes practice. She has a lot to learn on the subject. Many people do. It's up to her, or anyone, to decide if they really want to live an honest life. This world certainly doesn't require it or even encourage it. In fact, it makes it harder, but living according to your heart requires honesty. It's the only requirement. I told her that I care about her, but I, also, explained in a nonjudgmental way that unfortunately I still don't trust her and that's one of the reasons why I won't take anything from her. The other reason is that I want to know beyond any doubt that I gave more than I took. Rest/service area on I95.



September 15, 2024, Freeport, Maine
Crashed a harvest dance, last night. Even kicked up my boots a little among the boring sticks in the mud cluttering the barns dance floor. I don't know how people can just stand there like zombies with their thumbs up their butts with such great music being performed right in front of them. The band was really good. When did life become a spectator sport? It's more of a suburban thing, especially in the yuppy areas of New England. This wouldn't have happened a few towns away from the coast where country people are real country. Woke up by the ocean on a farm where I used to live. A buddy who used to live here, too, is the one who texted me last night and told me that the dance was happening. He grew up here. His grandfather ran the farm when it was a real farm. Now, it's a hoighty-toighty nonprofit like the one I just took a job on, but geographically it's even more beautiful with over 250 acres along the ocean on Wolfe's Neck, a peninsula of land with the Harraseeket River on one side and Casco Bay on the other. I lived here for 4yrs. I was the equipment manager which only means I knew how to read a shop manual and taught myself how to fix the equipment and implements. This is where I learned how to run a tractor and did most of the haying. My buddy who texted me about the dance took over that role when I left. He went to school for mechanics. He has a shop a few towns inland and works for himself, now, but the farm is still his biggest customer. I only lived here during the spring, summer and fall then traveled in the winters. The place has changed a lot and most of the people I knew are long gone, but it's nice to be in a familiar place for the day. I just took a hot shower at the bath house and then did all my recycling which has been collecting into a sizable pile behind the front seat of the yukon. Not recycling is one of my pet peeves. They moved the recycling center to a different location within the 400 site campground on the farm and people still can't seem to read simple signs like "Plastic" here and "Cardboard" here, but it was nice to see that it's still in use seeing as I was the one who started it.

It's a sunny Sunday afternoon and a lot of the weekend campers have left so I'm parked by the ocean among the trees at a vacant site. On my way here, I bumped into my buddy's father who, also, grew up here and he offered to give me a free camping spot. I thanked him and told him I'd follow up with him in a couple days. This conversation took place on the dirt farm road with him in his car going in one direction and me in mine going in the other with a bunch of weekend tourists behind us waiting for us to finish talking which is how he does most of his business. Great guy and always on the go. I didn't automatically accept the gesture because I'm not sure if he realized that he was offering me a free campsite for a month and a half which included a 30 foot trailer and tiny house. Early fall is still a very busy season. I mentioned to him last night that I took a temporary gig with the nearby farm so I'd only be here until Halloween, but it was pretty loud at the dance and he had a wagon full of campers waiting for him to give them a ride back to the campground with a farm tractor so he may not have caught it all. The tickets for the dance were over a hundred bucks and it was all sold out, but I know my way around the barn all too well to let that discourage me.

I need to go do laundry then I'll probably head over to Mountain Dew's, that's my redneck buddy in North Yarmouth. He made a miniature dirt race track in his back yard and has a bunch of friends over on Sundays (today) to race remote control cars and trucks. He, his son and wife probably have 30 of them stored on shelves in his garage. I told him I'd help him move one of the giant storage tents he's got out back tomorrow because there's a bunch of pine trees that need to be taken down right next to it. I wrestled with heading back to western Mass when I got out of work, yesterday, because missButterfly called, again, and wanted to see me. I don't like deliberately distancing myself from her, but as hard as it was I decided to stay in Maine, save the gas money and see if I can find a spot to park the tiny house.



September 20, 2024, Freeport, Maine
It's official. I'm addicted to homemade salsa. I'm on my fifth batch and my tomatoes are still poppin'. The weird thing is I don't even like them raw, but after working at the farm I was on in 2019 which was famous for theirs, I became a salsa snob and won't even buy the jarred stuff anymore. My friend who owns that farm (He was my boss then. He's my friend, now.) would be proud of what I've been woofing down the last couple weeks and it's all organic like his. I got out of work a little early, today, so I have a few extra minutes to write. I had a chance to stop by John Deere's shop, too. That's what I'm calling my buddy who used to live and work on the farm by the ocean with me years ago, but he was out on a job. His friend who works for him was there elbows deep in a tractor engine so we got to catch up a little. He said "I remember you. You're the guy who walked across America." I just laughed and said, "I remember you. You're the guy who let me watch the Rodney Atkins concert from the stern of your lobster boat in Portland harbor," and he laughed. Great guy.

I don't have much of a life these days. Just working long hours and sleeping in the back of the yukon so it was nice to get a little social interaction even for just a few minutes. Most of the people I have to deal with during the day at the grocery store loading docks are pretty miserable so it can drain a person if they're not careful, but I haven't let it. I just meet everyone with a smile and politeness then get on to my next stop. It's always a breath of fresh air when one of them is just as polite and pleasant. I think working for a big company like Hannaford must be soul crushing. I'm not particularly enjoying the company I'm working for at the moment either, but there's a light at the end of the tunnel. Half a' month down. A month and a half to go. And, I got my bumps back so that's a plus. I was getting pretty skinny by late summer after leaving the last farm. Feels great. Well, I shouldn't push my luck. I've got to be up at 4 so I should hit the hay soon. I just realized, today, that I should keep writing even if it's just a little bit or I'll end up feeling like dust in the wind all the time. The mornings are definitely kicking my ass and that sucks, but if I didn't believe that it's only what I need to do, right now, in order to make it to a better place I'm not sure I could face them. One more day this week then I can drive back and sleep in my own bed.



September 23, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
Got back to the field at a reasonable hour and went to bed early. Slept in until 7 yesterday morning which was nice. Got some stuff done, cleaned out the yukon, harvested all my potatoes, gave myself a haircut, took a hot bath. Today, the clock is ticking because I know I need to drive back tonight and put in another week. Actually, I'll probably do two weeks. I'm going to bring my carrots and celery with me and put them in the greenhouse at the farm if I don't harvest them all before I leave so I don't have to worry about them getting watered. If I'm being honest, I'm dreading going back, but if I only make the trip every other week I'll only need to do it three more times then I'll be done. The less money I spend on gas and the less wear and tear I put on my vehicle the better.

Getting paid every other week is such bs. The companies that do this want their employees to show up every morning and bust their butts, but they expect these working class folks to wait two weeks in order to get paid. That isn't right. I'll deal with this later. At the moment, I'm making a few bucks and I'm back in shape. I just need to give my nights and mornings more meaning so the experience doesn't feel so empty. I need to find a way to connect with more people. Working for a big corporation that does business with other big corporations can sandwich a person's spirit between two heartless entities. This is why I've always chosen to work for owner-operated farms of a certain size because then I can develop a rapport with who I'm working for and they quickly learn how dependable and responsible I am which makes them appreciate me as a person rather than just being a nameless cog in the machine. Right now, I need to use all these tomatoes to make up a couple more batches of salsa, do laundry, check the fluids in the yukon, do a few errands and make the trip back.



September 28, 2024, Yarmouth, Maine
Two days off and nowhere to go. Not sure what I'm going to do so, of course, I should write about it to help me figure this out. As much as I'd like to take a break from the road, I'm not going to drive back to my quiet little field to regroup. I don't want to waste the gas, or the money. I'll have some saved up by the time it's all said and done at the end of October so I might as well maximize this. I'll definitely have enough to buy a new truck and put a few bucks back in my pocket when I sell this one. It was a grueling month, but it's just about over. One more to go.

It's a Saturday night and there's always a tendency to want to go out for a cold one or find some music and cut it up a little, but I've lived in this area a lot over the years and the pickin's are slim around here. Portland which isn't too far has some clubs and music venues, but that place which was once a funky little city with a mixture of blue collar folk and artsy peeps is now a freak show riddled with homeless people and yuppies. The place is almost unrecognizable. I'm sure there still are some cool local spots, but it would take living there again for a while to find them. All of coastal southern Maine is like a different place, actually. I can't even drive down the road anywhere without someone riding my bumper because I'm not going fast enough. It's obnoxious. Such a shame. I loved it here. I suppose it happens everywhere eventually.

I broke out the map when I got out of work earlier to possibly find a cool state park or a quiet stretch of coastline to car-camp along for a couple days, but there's nothing very close where I wouldn't have to worry about overnight parking. Everything's private property and I'm not going to pay to camp. That would defeat the purpose of sticking around rather than driving back to my tiny house. I still haven't caught up with John Deere. He invited me to meet up with him, his wife and kids at the Cumberland Fair on Tuesday night, but I could barely keep my eyes open when I got out of work so I opted to try to get some sleep. I was in rough shape earlier this week and needed the rest. I dropped him off a warty pumpkin which are the newest fad this year. The farm sells a lot of them so I left one on his porch the other day with a note. We'll catch up eventually. Needless to say, I haven't spoken to his father either about getting a campsite. I'll confess my pride is part of the reason. I chose this path. I'm not destitute or looking for hand-outs. The only way people will understand why I took it is if I stick it out and show them. It feels too much like charity until then.

I should just stay put and work on the book.



September 29, 2024, Yarmouth, Maine
Grabbed some groceries and stuck to the same routine that I keep during the week. I always experience a little bit of an inside joke when I walk past produce in a grocery store that I brought there earlier that day. The big bin of pumpkins out front of the Yarmouth Hannaford that I rolled to that spot with a pallet jack in the morning was almost empty.

I called River, the owner of the farm I worked on in 2021, on Wednesday and he called me back Thursday morning while I was parked by a loading dock waiting for an 18 wheeler to finish so I could back in next which gave us a few minutes to catch up. I delivered to a lot of the same stores when I worked for him so he's come up in conversation a few times when I've been talking with some of the produce managers. Things sound like they're going well for him and his family which has gotten bigger by one. They have three children, now. He's very busy as always. The big new barn and loading area is all finished which is allowing vegetables to be processed, packed and sent out the door more efficiently. He doesn't deliver to Hannaford that much anymore because they're so difficult to deal with, but he's driving all the way down into the north shore of Mass, now, and selling to a lot more Whole Foods. The farthest I went for him was the one in Portsmouth, New Hampshire and that was a long drive from mid-coast Maine. The north shore is even farther, but business is business and they buy local organic so that's good. We promised to have that beer we still haven't grabbed and wished each other well. The midcoast is a couple hours even from southern Maine, but I told him I'd try to get up there for a visit before I head west. I'm glad I called. He's texted a few times since then.

I stopped by another buddy's office who I used to build houses with when I got out of work, but he was out on a jobsite, too. He's been promoted from Construction Manager to Executive Director since we worked together in 2014 which was the year I took a break from farming and accepted a job building houses for lower income families. I told the people in the office that I wanted it to be a surprise so I'll try him again in a few days.

Well, the ding dongs who parked next to me last night just left so I'm much more relaxed, now. They had trash and junk piled up in the windows of their suv almost to the ceiling. Lovely. The woman swung open the back door facing my side with no pants on. Luckily, I didn't see anything or want to. She pulled on a pair of shorts then put on her sneakers and walked off into the woods with some tissue in her hand. The guy who was also lying in the back eventually got out and threw enough of the trash that was in the driver's seat into the back to make room for him to get in and drive off when she got back. A young woman with a little boy in the passenger seat who was parked further down in the lot just drove off, too. Their windows were full of stuff, as well, but not quite as much as the happy couple. I've been living like this for a long time, but a lot more people have adopted it since then. Or, maybe there's just a lot more people in general so it just seems this way. I don't know. The difference that I try to remind myself is that I didn't land here. I chose this path somewhat naively because I refused to compromise my beliefs that I feel are more valuable than those pervading our culture, right now. This doesn't help much when people with very different values pull up and park next to me. I suppose the same is true for the spoiled rich family that parked beside me by the ocean the other day whining and staring at their phones. Maybe I'm just a snob. I know I'm not, but it is what it is, for now.

It's like I've been living in the 80's all week because I've kept my phone off the whole time, except for when I'm at work and even then I refuse to look at it unless the farm manager calls. This has been just what I needed. Being back in the field last weekend messed with my head a lot. I got some rest and a few things done, but I forgot a bunch of stuff when I left because my thoughts weren't clear. The sad thing is that I knew I wasn't being present because I had my phone on a lot of the time trying to distract myself from the loneliness. Not a good solution.

~Later in the day~

Went for a short hike, did some errands, just had some lunch and now I'm parked at a tourist visitor center along rte.1. Well, I got what I asked for. I have rid myself of the only person in my life, the only person I mattered to. Real smooth. I haven't heard from her in almost two weeks and I didn't have any visits from missButterfly while I was in Montague for two days last weekend. She's finally left me alone which was my request. She called me a bunch of times prior to me getting back and even admitted to trying to come up with new schemes to keep us involved. Her last attempt was to ask me to look at cars for her while I'm in Maine. She's in the market for a "new" one and thought I could look at some while I'm over here, but I finally had to put my foot down. Rather than politely ask her to stop coming by unannounced, I told her not to in a firmer way, this time.

In her last email, she said "I know that we can come up with a better ending than this because we both care" and we did. Many times. We've had plenty of beautiful endings to whatever it was we had like our heart to heart talk during the chimney job or after it when we went for a swim and I played her the song on the sundeck or when she came over before I left for Maine. There's been plenty others, but she just kept trying to keep it going knowing all the while that her boy in Pennsylvania was on his way up to stay with her soon despite the fact that I've told her countless times that I can't be involved with this type of situation. Wah. If I let her, she would have kept seeing me right up until the day he arrived so she could just trade horses midstream, again. That doesn't feel like caring to me. Part of me wondered whether keeping the other dude in the mix was her way of trying to force my hand because she mentioned more than once that if she was in a relationship with someone else she wouldn't let him come up and stay with her. Deliberate or not, unfortunately, I wasn't going to be pressured into being with someone under those circumstances. I tried to help her and be kind, but I hate to say it. Getting involved with her has been the lowest point in my relationship history. She thanked me when we last spoke and told me that she has nothing but respect and love for me so I guess maybe I did help in some way, but it wasn't fun. It doesn't feel right to stop talking to her and cut her out of my life completely, but I don't feel like I had any other choice. I'm ok, now, but the beginning of the week was hard. Had to happen though. Time to move on and focus on more positive healthier goals.



October 2, 2024, Gray, Maine
My end of the day routine is watering my vegetables in the farm greenhouse and then munching on one of my carrots as I walk back to my vehicle. I can't bring myself to harvest them all. I think it's because then I wouldn't be growing anything. Pathetic as it is, I like the idea of having something else alive in my life besides me. Maybe that's why people have house plants. I've thought about getting another dog, but I still haven't gone through with this. Not sure why. I was the guy who no one could picture without a dog. We were joined at the hip. Now, it's been years since my last buddy passed away.

I've been working Saturdays, but I just remembered this week I'm done on Friday. I've got to drive down to Marshfield for a funeral. Mr.Fireman's mother passed away. She'd been battling a form of ALS (amyotrophic lateral sclerosis) for most of his life. She beat all the odds over and over for decades and never once complained or felt sorry for herself. It's still very sad though. She was a super nice lady. She was surrounded by her family when she went. I talked with him this afternoon. He sounds like he's doing ok. Mr.Finance and I will hang out with him this weekend.

Works getting worse. It's so soul crushing and spirit sapping, but on the flip side, it's making me work harder and be even more organized so I'm crushing it and making a good name for myself. It's been a learning experience to see just how bad big companies are for a person's mental well-being in the work place. It's really bad. I, also, need to remind myself that living with a "means to an end" mentality isn't really good for someone which is exactly how I'm living, right now. I've got working, sleeping in my vehicle and saving money so dialed in that I'm a picture of orderliness and discipline, but what's the point if I'm completely alone all the time? Who am I being so efficient for? Some imaginary girl I'll hopefully meet someday? The weather's been beautiful lately. How am I enjoying it? I don't know. I'm going to think about this some more, but right now I need sleep. 12hr day yesterday, 10 and a half, today. Rest/service area on I95.




October 6, 2024, Dedham, Massachusetts
I didn't want to sit in traffic after I got out of work so I waited and drove down to Boston later in the evening. I definitely needed a shower before the funeral so I called my cousin in Dedham to let him know I might be rolling in that night, but I wasn't sure what time I'd get there so he told me to park beside one of his work trailers on the dead end section of the street by his house. It was pretty dark over there so I decided to park across the street in our uncle's driveway who was away for the night with my aunt visiting our other cousin and her family in Connecticut. Dedham's definitely a city and there's been some petty burglaries over the years like cars being broken into or tools stolen out of work trailers so when I saw a dark figure moving around in front of my uncle's garage, I jumped out of the yukon. I didn't have any shoes on which hurt my feet in the gravel section of his driveway, but the person turned out to be my younger cousin who lives in the apartment above the garage. I didn't see any lights on when I pulled in so I didn't know he was home. It was around 10:30 and he was heading out for a beer with his friend at a bar in Dedham Square where he used to bartend so I joined them. His friend ended up dropping us off so it was just my cousin and I with the manager, owner and another bartender hanging out all night. The waitress joined us, too, for a little while once the last few customers left. It must have been around 2:30 by the time we walked home which wasn't far. I didn't drink much, but even a couple beers is a lot for me these days not to mention the shot they coaxed me into doing with them. Luckily, I knew enough to down a bunch of water before I went to sleep or I would've felt gross in the morning. Plenty of water is the key. I'm usually in bed by 8pm during the week so it was a pretty late night for me.

Up, showered and out of there on time. I got to the church early which mr.Fireman later told me he appreciated seeing me standing by the church doorway when he, his father and family arrived. Mr.Fireman is the youngest of three. His mother and father met in the 4th grade. They were married for 52 years. That's pretty amazing. After the funeral and bereavement get-together at Haddad's Restaurant in Brant Rock, I spent most of the day hanging out with him and a few of his other friends at his house. I had brunch with mr.Finance and his wife so I got to catch up with them, too. Helped my cousin do some diving this morning in Boston Harbor to work on his mooring, again. Our uncle was back and he brought us out there on his boat so I enjoyed spending the day with both of them.

It's crazy to go from such a solitary existence of sleeping in my truck every night like an outcast to spending this much time with friends and family. Most of them don't know how I live. I'm sure after a couple of days of being in the city or even on the crowded south shore it would get to me real quick, but seeing everyone feels good. My cousin who I went diving with and his wife just got two golden retriever puppies which literally look like living blonde teddy bears. One pure bred pup costs 5 grand. I won't even have that much to spend on the truck I'm saving up for. They got two. He's been a union carpenter for over 25yrs and does excavation work with his own machine and dump trailer on his days off and she's a graphic designer. They worked very hard to put their son through college who's, now, graduated and working. They're not rich. They just like having nice things. Needless to say we live very different lives. Although, he's not afraid to sleep in his truck either by getting up extra early, driving into Boston when there's no traffic, finding a parking spot and then sleeping a little more before work. Getting to do laundry, today, somewhere other than a laundry mat was a treat for me. There's plenty of beds available, but I'm lying here in the yukon. I don't need a lot of creature comforts. I just need a quiet place to do a little writing and get some sleep. Having permission to be somewhere is what makes the difference.

Of course, I think about missButterfly every day. I asked, more like told, her not to contact me or show up at my house unannounced anymore unless she hears from me and for the first time she's actually respected my wishes. I hated to do it, but I had to. I feel bad that I haven't contacted her, but that's only natural. If you spend enough time with someone, you're going to get attached to them. We're social creatures. This is a defining characteristic of being human. Even people who are kidnapped for a prolonged period of time develop a weird connection with their captors. It feels wrong under such unusual circumstances, but no situation even one as extreme as that can keep us from being human. We're wired to connect with one another. Realizing this has helped me differentiate between my natural tendency to miss her and want to care for her and why it was, also, necessary for me to separate myself from her. It's a shame. I wish I could've trusted her, but I don't. I guess this means it's going to feel even better when I find someone who I can. I need to meet a lady whose already committed to living an honest life regardless of me or anyone else. This is the only requirement for serving one's heart. Serve your heart and you're guaranteed to be a happy person. Serve your ego and you're guaranteed to be an unhappy one. It's that simple. Simple doesn't mean easy. This is why it takes a strong person. The mind is not capable of making a person happy. That's not its job. Its job is to get sh*t done and it's very good at this. What it gets done is for the heart to decide. Get these roles reversed and you'll be miserable and drive yourself crazy not to mention everyone around you while ruining the planet in the process. Serve your heart and you'll be a positive presence in the life of everyone you know, a shining light. This is what I believe. This is how I'm trying to live. I can't be bothered by how crazy the way I'm presently living seems to others. In order to be happy, we need to follow our hearts which means we, first, need to know them. I know and trust mine.

Maybe I will eventually contact her just to let her know that I hope she's doing ok, but more time should probably pass, first.



October 13, 2024, Yarmouth, Maine
Two and a half more weeks and I'm done with this. I don't know how I'm going to make it actually, but the days will continue to come and go whether I like it or not so it is what it is. I'm working six days a week, now. The farm manager texted me this morning and said they could really use me tomorrow which is usually my day off so I told him I'd come in which was better than last weekend when the asst.manager messaged me at 9:42pm on Sunday night asking me to work the following morning. I was still in Dedham after the funeral and had already gone to bed, but decided to check my messages around 2:30am when I got up to take a leak, but I couldn't leave then. My cousin's truck was parked in front of me in his driveway and I wasn't about to wake him up. When he asked me to go diving that morning, I double-checked that I wasn't on the work schedule and I wasn't, but just to be sure I messaged them and never heard back from them then at almost 10pm the asked me to come in. I still worked though. I can use the hours. I was going to stay and help my uncle put up new shutters on his house which is two stories high, but it was supposed to rain so I figured he'd put it off until a better day which he did so I waited for my cousin to leave for work at 5am and drove up to Maine.

As many hours as I'm working, my paycheck is still embarrassing. I made more in 3 days on the masonry job than I have in two weeks driving for this big nonprofit which happens to own a farm. Ok, technically, I didn't make more on the masonry job because I wouldn't let her pay me, but that's how much I would've made. Somethings are more important than money, but my stubborn idealism isn't making things any easier. I've got a lot of writing to do, but I need to sleep. I try to get 8 hrs if I can. I've gone without a lot of things and made many sacrifices on this path, but a good night's sleep is one of the few things I can give myself which added to a 12hr shift only leaves 4 hours a day to do everything else. I've got to find some type of positive incentive more immediate than the end of the month to help me get through the day.



October 23, 2024, Yarmouth, Maine
I've said it over and over, but then I don't do it. Write, numb nuts! This isn't a story! This is your life. Just write to make a record, to document that you're still alive and on this planet. Stop judging yourself. It doesn't have to be profound or extraordinary. Just put something down to say "I'm still trying." If I don't write even just a little, the negativity in the world can chip away at me.

Some genius is parked behind me with his lights on standing outside his vehicle puffing away. I had to do an errand in Portland after work so I'm stuck at a park n'ride. This will be my first official night in my new truck. It's a 4 door crew cab and the back seats fold up allowing my little mattress to fit easily on the floor and I'm low enough below the windows that it actually feels somewhat private. #mlfr . Before leaving for the day, I reminded the manager at the farm that October 31st is next week which is when this job is supposed to end. It falls on a Thursday, but I suspected that they'd want me to work until Saturday like I have been and they do so I agreed. Whatever. I'm counting the days. I drew a calendar of the months September and October in my journal and every night I cross out another day. Tomorrow would have made it only a week more to go. Now, it's a week and two days. A week and two days more to go.

I know I should be writing and working on the book at night, but it takes a little while to decompress from the work day and then it's already time for bed. At least, the weather has been absolutely beautiful.



October 24, 2024, Gray, Maine
Waited until it got dark and took my first vagabond shower in the back seat of the new truck while parked in the far corner of the rest/service area. Ya, I know. Mlr, mlr, mlr. I'm just psyched because there's a lot more interior room for a pick-up truck than I expected with the seats folded up. I hate not having an 8 foot bed so I'm tempted to pull it off and build a nice big flat bed. We'll see. I've got enough projects. Haven't been back to my little house in over a month, but I'm as clean as I can get for now. The big stainless steel bowl that I still have from when I was renting the land in Thorndike, ME works great for washing my hair which makes a big difference in feeling clean. I've thought about getting a motel room for the night a couple times, but I'm supposed to be saving money. One thing I realized today is that part of the challenge with getting stuff done once I get out of work is that I've got nothing to work on physically. The tiny house and all my projects are in a field 3hrs away. Without something to keep my active momentum going once I leave the farm, my mind has to try to ground itself internally which is a challenge without having a physical place to do so. A week and one day to go.



October 25, 2024, Gray, Maine
It's late Friday afternoon and like any Friday there's a little more buzz in the air compared to the end of a week day. Everyone's hurrying off to wherever they're going. I gave the manager a quick wave as he zoomed out of the parking lot while I was pulling a pallet jack from the loading dock warehouse to the packing warehouse. There's still plenty that needs to be done, in my opinion, so I'm not leaving until it is. I've got to work tomorrow and I'd rather do everything calmly in an organized way now than rush around hectic in the morning when time is a factor and three different crews who don't speak the same language are fighting over two pallet jacks. Fun times. The grocery stores expect deliveries to be made within a specific time frame and they're not happy when you show up later than this. A lot of them aren't happy regardless, but I prefer not to give them any justification by arriving past the time window if I can help it so I stay later at the end of the day so I can have a good day the next one.

Loaded 26 pallets of squash and pumpkins onto three trucks. They're all full and ready for the other drivers as well as my own. It was pretty quiet when I left, but I'm used to it by now. I find it relaxing being the only one there. I miss being on a farm. Plus, no one can see me when I ride the pallet jack like a skateboard from one warehouse to the other. The electric one looks probably even more funny because I don't even have to push. I just hold down a button and away I go. Now, I'm parked in the Shop N' Save plaza in Gray. The place is packed because it's Friday and the two bars at this end of the lot are very busy. Part of me thinks I should go out for a beer and try to socialize, but having to work in the morning vetoes this idea. I am tired of being alone all the time, but in a week at least I'll be freer.
Rest/service area on I95.



October 30, 2024, Gray, Maine
Three more days to go. So much for being parked along the shores of some remote lake in the mountains come election day. Oh well. At least, I'll be done with this job, have a few bucks in my pocket, a truck, a tiny house that I can bring anywhere and, most of all, hope.
Rest/service area on I95.



November 2, 2024, Yarmouth, Maine
It's over.

I went to four different auto parts stores, last night, trying to find decent lug nuts to replace the cheesey cheap ones the previous owner had on the wheels of my new truck which has aftermarket rims, not stock GM ones. Stock lug nuts won't fit on these wheels. The last thing you want if you ever find yourself on the side of the road with a flat tire or worse is to have to deal with cheap lug nuts that need a special socket that no auto parts store sells in order to get your wheel off.

I was supposed to work, today, but I found out around lunch time at the farm, yesterday, that I don't have to. Wondering what the farm manager was going to have me do now that Halloween had come and gone and pumpkin season was over had been a concern all week. My confidence in the management's judgment abandoned me over a month ago. I signed on to do a specific job and I don't like showing up to work wondering what someone's going to have me do if it's going to be anything different from this. I'm too old and experienced to spend the day asking "What would you like me to do now?" Those days are over for me so I asked the manager what will need to be done, Saturday, as we were standing by the picnic tables after lunch with the skeleton remains of the crew who had already flown back to Jamaica and he said "Nothing." He noticed by my reaction that I was a little surprised by this and then he remembered that I usually work on Saturdays and, also, remembered that he had asked me to finish out the week, but in his head that meant I'd work until Friday because he doesn't work on Saturdays. He apologized for his mistake like he's done many times for the last two months as I realized as of that moment I was finished with this job. They got a bunch of pizza for everyone compliments of the fancy non-profit which owns the farm and I was able to get a slice before it was all gone having just gotten back from my delivery run. One slice was good enough for me. I was free.
Park n'ride, Yarmouth, Maine



November 3, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
It was around 10 o'clock when I finally made it back to the field. I texted missLuna to let her know that I'd be rolling in a little late. I turned off my headlights when I got there and drove up the hill past the big maple tree. It was clear last night so I could still see pretty well. I turned them on once I got up to the tiny house so I could see how my little area looked. I don't think I've ever felt this good to be back. The last two months were hell.

Taking the back roads from Maine, it had been close to a 5 hour drive and I was pretty beat, but I was, also, filthy so I walked back down the field under the bright night sky with one of my 5 gallon spring water jugs and filled it up at the barn. It was time for a nice hot bath. I turned the furnace on before heading down the field so it'd be warm and cozy in the house when I returned.

Home sweet home.

~later in the day~
Now the bad news. Even though I was hoping to sleep in a little, this morning, I've got too much on my plate at the moment so when I woke up around 6 this morning, I couldn't fall back asleep. Didn't find any decent lug nuts at any of the stores I went to in the Portland area so I ordered some online. They'll be here in a couple days. I still need to head back to Maine to get the yukon. I decided to hold onto a second vehicle until I was sure the new one was going to work out. I left the yukon at Mountain Dew's in North Yarmouth. I'll most likely take a combination of the bus and train to get there then walk the rest of the way. I finished doing the brakes on the new truck before leaving Maine, but there's still something wrong with the front end. I knew it was going to need a little work when I bought it. This is why I can usually get good deals on vehicles because I know how to fix them, but I'm now wondering if the guy was completely honest with me. Whatever, that's the game. Buyer beware. The man I bought the yukon from was a super nice guy and I got a great deal on that so I guess it was my turn to get screwed. I had my doubts about this one. I knew it needed some body work, but he said it ran and drove fine. When I opened the tailgate to measure the truck bed to see how far a sheet of plywood would stick out -I'm not crazy about how short the beds are on newer trucks these days, it was completely full of junk, like packed so much that nothing else would fit. I couldn't tell because it had a tonneau cover over it, but when I open the tailgate everything fell out. To me, that's a sign. He knew he was selling the vehicle. Maybe empty it before the guy coming to look at it gets there.

I thought I had been patient. I looked for three weeks before deciding on this truck, but I couldn't wait forever. I was hoping to head west this summer, not at the beginning of winter. I took it for a test drive and could tell it was going to need brakes, but couldn't be sure of anything else because it didn't have plates on it and he asked me to stay in his neighborhood. I offered him 500 less than his asking price, but he said "No" so I told him I'd check back with him in a few days. There were a few other trucks that I wanted to look at that weekend which was true, but then he said "F*ck it, ok. I hate facebook marketplace and don't want to deal with those people anymore. Let's do it." I could tell he wasn't happy and I felt a little bad so I added 200 bucks to my price so he didn't feel like has was being taken. I didn't have to do that, but I believe in karma. For half the price of a golden retriever puppy, I had something that ran and looked nice. I could fix the rest. After I bought it and drove it over 30mph, there was a serious vibration in the front end, but I hoped this might still be the brakes if the rotors were very rusty. Nope. When I finished doing them yesterday afternoon and took it for a test drive nothing was any different, but I was tired of roughing it like I've been doing for the last two months and wanted to sleep in my own bed so I nursed it for 5 hours back to Montague. Next to replace is the bearings and half-shafts. At least, now, it has all new pads, rotors and calipers. It definitely needed them.

I've got to call back a lady, today, who responded to one of my fliers while I was in Maine about a job here in Montague. It doesn't sound too big so I might bang it out before heading back to get the yukon. Even though I've got a lot to do, I'm still very happy to be "home". Surprisingly, mice didn't move in while I was gone. I guess I did a decent job mouse proofing the place when I built it. I did make the mistake of leaving the big wooden door open with only the screen door to stop any visitors when I left the first time in early September and the mice made themselves quite at home while I was away. Even a bar of soap that sits in a little dish mounted on the wall above the "kitchen sink" (it's a bowl under a ceramic water dispenser) had tiny teeth marks in it. They climbed up the wall to eat soap, really? But, not this time. Even the potatoes I harvested when I was last home over a month ago were still in the big bowl on the counter undisturbed.

Nothing else was waiting for me either, no cards, emails, calls or unexpected guests. I guess she's finally moved on. As lonely as I am, I know it's for the best. I've had plenty of time to think and do some math and her decisions to leave out certain information at certain times, unfortunately, in my opinion, adds up to her being a shady person. It's a shame. It didn't have to be that way, but no thanks. I'll stay lonely. I'll still reach out to her and wish her well, but not until I'm long gone so as to not encourage anymore unsolicited visits before then. I'm sure after enough time has past, I'll be able to look back on things with a clearer more positive perspective, but it's going to take a minute. I've got plenty to do in the meantime. The big maple has shed its leaves and they've engulfed my little house. I've got raking to do for starters.



November 8, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
Home Sweet home, continued.

Got up at 5, yesterday morning, left the property around 6 and nursed the truck down to Springfield, took a bus from Springfield to Boston, then took a bus from Boston to Portland, then took a bus from Portland to Yarmouth, then walked 4 miles to Mountain Dew's house, hopped in the yukon and drove it back to western Mass. Got home around 9pm, last night.

Got up this morning and caught the bus from here in Montague into Greenfield, took another bus from Greenfield to Northampton, took another bus from Northampton to Springfield, walked a couple blocks to the hotel parking lot where I left the yukon, last night, and drove back here this afternoon.

Technically, I could've done it all in one day, but I didn't feel like making the 4 mile walk from Yarmouth center to Mountain Dew's house in the dark, yesterday evening, so I left early in the morning which required me to drive to Springfield rather than take the buses like I did, today. Whatever, it's all done and the clock is no longer ticking. Both my vehicles are now at one location, here.

I'm deliberaring on whether I should go out and try to have fun, tonight. I mean, it is Friday and I did just get paid, direct deposit, my last pay check from the farm. The thing about going out around here is that I have yet to find a place that actually plays music and has a dance floor. There's countless places to stand around and drink all night, but over consumption is not a valid form of expression, in my opinion. There is one place not far that boasts "Live Music Every Night" on its marquee which I've never been to so I might as well give it a shot. I'll try not to get my hopes up. I should think of a plan B if it ends up being lame.



November 11, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
Ugh, I don't really feel like writing, but I know I should even if it's just mundane ramblings. Still glad and relieved to be "home", but I'm looking forward to the moment when my time is all mine, if only for a few days. Took 3 big trees down for missLuna since being back which paid for my field rent and then some, spent half the day, today, digging up a lady's back yard looking for her storm drainage pipe and tomorrow I'll be up on missLuna's neighbor's roof cleaning out her chimney. I spent the second half of today replacing the front driver-side half axle on the truck, took it for a test drive (with my finger's crossed), but still haven't fixed the problem completely. It's a little better so I can drive it over 30 without the front end feeling like it's going to vibrate off, but it's still pretty bad so I ordered new wheel bearings, tonight, and they'll be here in a couple days. I wish I could run out and grab some at the store and throw them on, tomorrow, but they start at $200 for one bearing at any local auto parts place and I just got two online for 75 bucks. I'm not boycotting auto parts stores. I still buy plenty of stuff from them, but when I can save that much I'd be a fool not to order them and wait a couple days. It's a process of elimination. You start with the least expensive parts and systematically replace each one until the problem's fixed. Most of the time, I can tell right away what part needs to be replaced, but others I have to do it this way. Having a second vehicle makes it much less stressful.

When out on Friday, went to 6 different places in search of some music and a dance floor, but couldn't find anything. I only actually went inside three of them. The others you could tell from the parking lot that they were dead inside. I tried. The few freezing nights we've had in the last week finally killed my tomato plants, but I harvested them before this happened so I got enough tomatoes for one more batch of salsa.

I don't want to jinx myself, but as pathetic as my social life is I still sort of feel like I've had glimmers of January in the last week since I'm so close to being self-contained and mobile. At night, I lie in bed with my headlamp on, because I'm a dork, looking at the walls imagining different ways to improve the living area to maximize space and feng shui.



November 22, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
I just left the property and drove down the road until I had a few bars on my phone then pulled over in one of the dirt turn-outs along the Sawmill River. I needed to call back the older lady who I've been doing some work for and the reception up in the field isn't good so this is what I do whenever I need to have a conversation with someone. I'm back up at my house, now. I wasn't able to reach her so I left a message as well as texted her my email address so she can contact me that way, as well. I was surprised that she is a texter, but she mentioned the other day when I was over in her yard digging up a storm drain for her that she wanted to send her sister a pic of the 6 foot deep hole I had dug. I suppose you have to adapt and learn new technologies when you're in your 70's and living alone.

I'm so done living alone that things have been dangerously touch and go lately. I almost drove to missFlowerchild's house the other night which is an hour and a half away, but I came to my senses. That wouldn't be fair to her. I told myself to go home and sleep it off. "If you feel the same way in the morning, then reach out to her the proper way instead of just showing up out of the blue and imposing on her." I'm pretty sure she'd be psyched either way, but I don't want to use her selfishly and that's what showing up unannounced is. Speaking of, MissButterfly is only a couple miles down the road, but that's not an option. The more time I've had to think about her behavior, the more I'm determined to never associate with her, again. MissFlowerchild, as crazy as she is, is very sweet, hot and never tried to play me like what's her name.

I decided not to contact her. I need people, not a girlfriend. It takes a village, genius! The girlfriend thing will take care of itself once I'm happy and situated somewhere. I'm just having a hard time getting out of here. The loneliness is like a prison keeping me trapped. I'm tempted to get in the yukon and just drive in search of a destination. If I find one, I could sell yukon wherever I am, fly back and haul the tiny house there with the "new" truck. That's actually not a bad idea. It would take off the pressure of heading out of here blindly with such a huge rig. I still need to find a destination though. That's the hard part. I've been coast to coast like 15 times and never found the right one on any of those road trips. Why would this one be any different? I've done lots of research, set out with a list, visited each one of them and still here I am. I have more faith in the unknown than doing research, but in order to let fate do it's job I've got to be ready and prepared.

One thought that crossed my mind the other day while I was working on the new truck is that "If you've had as many jobs as you have working for other people who have appreciated your experience and dependability, why don't you apply these attributes to your own situation?" In other words, slow down. Rushing is what causes anyone to make mistakes or do things half-assed even when they know how to do them the right way. I know how to do everything that needs to be done and whatever I don't know, I can learn. I always do because I have no choice. No one's going to save me.

I ordered a set of extra leaf springs, yesterday, to beef up the suspension on the truck so I know it can easily handle the job of towing the tiny house trailer. I want to feel like I've got my sh*t together as I'm heading down the road, not look like an overwhelmed disorganized mess. "If you think you can do better than some of the places you've worked for, then do it!" is what I've been telling myself. It's easy to sound like a know-it-all, or at least think like one, when I'm an employee, but there are many, many things that my employers have to deal with regarding the system that I will never know about whether they're a farmer, a lobsterman, feed store owner or whatever. I've seen enough to know that I'll never sacrifice my conscience or my soul to keep a business going just to make money. Similarly, there are countless things that go into living and traveling the way I do that most people will never be aware of. There is no safety net on the road. Preparation is my only defense so that's what I'm concentrating on and it's going well actually. The new truck is running great and rolling down the road nice and smooth since I installed a new front hub and bearing, last Friday. What a relief that was, but I'm not done, yet.

I know it sounds hokey, but with everything I'm doing, I'm replacing the bad energy from the guy who sold me the truck with the good energy that I'm putting into it so when I'm done it'll be like a different vehicle. I probably should have been more patient and waited until I found something that needed less work, but I'm not perfect. I spent all day Wednesday trying to remove the spare tire under the truck bed. I have to make sure I can get it out if I ever need to, but the winch was so rusted that it took a lot of work to even get it to lower the tire a little. I finally got it down enough to access the secondary safety latch as it was getting dark, but I couldn't get it to release because it was seized solid so I decided to stop for the night. I was filthy, wet from lying on my back in the grass as it rained off and on all day and I smelled like penetrating oil. I think I'm going to have to cut the cable to get the tire off and replace the winch with a new one.

I knew I needed to be around people. It's been weeks since I've had an actual conversation with another person. I washed my hands and face, changed out of my smelly shirt and sweat shirt, but that was it. I left on my boots and dirty jeans. I didn't care how I looked. I was going as is. I picked the roughest dive bar I could find which I've driven past many times in Greenfield since moving to the area last year which has always had questionable looking characters hanging around out front. It was even worse (in a good way) than the one in Deerfield that I went to last summer in late afternoon that didn't even have taps, only bottles and cans, after my train ride from hell. That bar was actually one of the places I went by the other night when I was looking for a good time, i.e. music and a dance floor, but even though the parking lot was full there wasn't a peep coming from inside. No thanks. This time I didn't care and I wanted to go someplace where I wouldn't be judged. Where if anyone gave me an attitude, I could give it right back to them. I wasn't looking for a good time, just a place to wallow in my misery. No hopes or expectations.

The place was definitely rough and dead inside with only a handful of people sitting at the bar. The only woman was grandma old, but this didn't stop her from continually looking in my direction. I ignored everyone, but I wasn't trying to be a dick. I ordered a beer politely, left a dollar tip and stood with my back against the wall pretending to watch the televisions above the bar. I was the youngest person in there by decades, but it was exactly what I needed. I could feel myself acclimating to a completely different environment than the one I live in day in and day out and this was good. Ok, the bartender was around my age and had a huge rack which she seemed obliged to show off as she came around the bar and stood right next to me at the jukebox loading up a bunch of classic rock and heavy metal songs to play. Thank you.

I hadn't planned on making a night of it. It was still early and I had errands to do at home depot and the grocery store. I just needed a change of scenery that included other human beings. Buying an arbitrary beer was the price of admission. This was why I was surprised when I decided to get a second one. I hadn't bought a beer for the entire two months I was working in Maine and I was just as miserable, if not worse, then, but I guess I was free, now, and on my own time. Maybe that was the difference. I ended up having a conversation with an old timer at the bar who looked me in the eye and said "Hello" as I was waiting for my second round. I looked him in the eye and said "Hello" back and then asked him if he rode because he was wearing a faded Harley Davidson hat. He did and I've had a few bikes so we talked shop and good roads to ride on around here for a little while before the bartender cut him off and he left. There were no hard feelings. It seemed part of the routine. He wasn't exactly happy about it, but she was less concerned with this than she was about hearing from his wife or daughter if she let him keep drinking. Everyone knew each other. I love dive bars. There so much realer than the pretentious consumer driven fake places where if you don't know anyone you feel like an outcast. Not here.

After I left and was done with my errands, it still wasn't late and that's when I got the brilliant idea to drive to Tyngsboro to see missFlowerchild. Luckily, I was smart enough to not go through with it, no offense to her. I was feeling 100% better the next morning so I tried to keep drudging ahead on my projects, but the relief was short lived. I know not writing for the past couple weeks hasn't helped, but I was holding off so I could recap everything in a clear and concise manner regarding what I learned from the last two months, but I haven't felt clear and concise long enough to accomplish this with the clock ticking and winter bearing down. It's Friday, but I'm not going out again. I know it's not the answer, but it did help to learn that even though it's not the best solution there is a place not too far away where I can go and stand in the dark and let the isolation burn off me if things get that bad, again.



November 23, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
Well, I'm stuck in the northeast during the onset of winter. Yay. I haven't been very productive the last couple days, but I need to lighten up about this and not get down on myself. I don't have a steady stream of money coming in at the moment so I have to be calculated about how I spend my time and my finances. Right now, I'm just waiting on the extra leaf springs that I ordered for the new truck. Originally, I was hoping to find a 3/4 ton Chevy which already comes with a heavy duty suspension, but all the ones I found were pretty rough around the edges or way out of my price range so I opted to buy a 1/2 ton then upgrade the suspension myself. Doing it this way saves me a lot of money and the interior on this one is very nice with leather heated seats which I've gotten used to from the yukon. If I ever do have a lady in my life someday, I want her to be comfortable. Both the 3/4 ton and the 1/2 ton come with the same size engine so I didn't sacrifice power. The GM 5.3 liter is one of the best engines ever made. I hauled my last 20 foot enclosed trailer fully loaded with all my tools, a studio apartment and a full size motorcycle inside from Maine to South Carolina from South Carolina to Los Angeles and from LA to Alaska and it never even blinked. And, that was with a Chevy Suburban which had a 5.3 and stock 1/2 ton suspension. The 3/4 ton Chevys have the option of a larger 6.O liter engine for more power, but they're not as good on gas. The 5.3 has all the power I need especially since once I get to where I'm going I'll only be using it as my daily driver until I get a smaller second vehicle. I actually think my present trailer even though it's 10ft longer than my last one isn't any heavier because I built the tiny house with such lightweight materials and there's no beast of a motorcycle, which was a Honda Goldwing 1200, on the back. If I do eventually get another bike, it'll be a small dual sport -that's a dirt bike with blinkers and a headlight to make it street legal which I can even throw in the back of the truck if I want. Ok, enough shop talk. I'm just trying to be patient and methodical until it's go time.

I'm frustrated with myself that I haven't gotten more done on the book, but then I realized, today, that it makes sense that it's hard, maybe even impractical, to focus on something creative and extracurricular when survival is constantly weighing in the balance. When I have a few less things on my plate, I'll chip away at it some more which is something I'm looking forward to. I've learned a lot in the last couple months. The other reason I should chill out on being such a drill sergeant is that the whole point of the book is to represent the path I've taken to achieve consistent happiness. If I'm not succeeding at this then I shouldn't be writing anything.



November 26, 2024, Montague, Massachusetts
Man, it's cold, tonight, and it's only 6 o'clock. It's supposed to get down into the teens this week. Lovely. I don't think my house plant is going to make it. I'm surprised it's lasted this long. I didn't know celery was so hardy. On the sunny days, I move it outside into a warm spot and then bring in it at night. I doubt I'll plant anymore. It's not substantial enough of a crop, not like cucumbers, potatoes or tomatoes which you can make a meal out of if you have to, but they're still alive and I like the company (#mlr) so I'm doing what I can for them. Everything else is gone. The buckets are stacked and the soil is consolidated into one big bin. If I really want a house plant I should get a nice pot and grow some basil and cilantro in it. They have a pleasant aroma, don't take up a lot of room, and ad flavor to many recipes.

Still waiting on my parts. I've gotten some of them, but not all and if I'm going to pull the front and back suspension apart, I'm only going to do it once. I wish I could have gotten new heavy duty shocks as well, but they're not in the budget, at the moment. I installed a new tailgate handle the other day. Oooh. It doesn't get much easier than that. Since there was a decent tonneau cover for the truck bed, I can leave my tools in the back as long as I can lock the tailgate so I ordered a handle that comes with a key and swapped it out with the original one.

Recap: I went to Maine for two months for a job. Didn't find a favorable spot to park the tiny house so I left it here and roughed it in my vehicle. I never took my friend up on his offer to stay in the campground at the farm along the ocean where I used to work because that would've been like a 40 min. drive to work everyday. I didn't want to put the extra miles on my truck or waste the money on gas. Never spent much time at Mountain Dew's either because there was a weird vibe there for some reason. I thought it was just my own avoidance of him because he'll talk my ear of for hours if I let him, literally hours, and the times in the past when I've tried to discuss this with him, he's had major meltdowns accompanied by belligerent water works. It's a little crazy, but sadly this wasn't where the uncomfortable vibe was coming from. He finally confessed just before I left that his wife had been cheating on him for 4 years with one of his best friends from West Virginia who had moved to Maine. She definitely had me fooled always playing the part of the sweet and polite mom and wife. That's cold-hearted. Poor guy. It's all over, now, apparently. They're basically only staying together until their son turns 18, if they make it that long. Needless to say, it was pretty awkward and I wasn't getting in the middle of it or playing the "everything is fine" game. Plus, I was afraid that I might tell her off. Keeping my mouth shut and staying out of it was a wiser approach. He and I had some long talks before I left. It sucks. If you don't want to be with someone, get out of the relationship. Don't rip a person's heart out with lies and deceit. That's messed up.

I did finally catch up with John Deere when he texted me that he and the family would be spending the weekend at the campground on the farm where we used to work so I stopped by on Saturday evening after work and brought them some squash. His wife, who I'd never met, had her parents visiting from Connecticut so I got to meet them as well as a handful of his local buddies all sitting by the campfire with lots of little ones running around. He hauled their 30 foot. camper with them from Pownal which is just the next town over so they were really roughing it. He's a funny guy and it was great to catch up. I even got a new t-shirt with his shop's name on it out of the visit. I eventually got one from the farm I was working on, too, but I have yet to wear it.

When I left on my first delivery run on day 2 of working there, I didn't have a single phone number for the manager, assistant manager or any of the other drivers so when the truck I was driving broke down an hour away from the farm, in order to notify someone I had to google the manager's first name along with the name of the farm which still didn't give me his number, but I did learn his last name in the process which I then did another online search with and eventually got his cell, luckily. I was fully aware of this when I started working there even though I had given them my number and contact info the very first time we corresponded, but I wanted to see how it played out and how they would address it. I was perplexed. How could you hire someone and not give them your phone number? They knew I had a lot of experience, but still. Being able to communicate is important. After a week, they still hadn't so I spoke up to bring this to the manager's attention along with a few other things. He apologized. Over the course of the two months, I came very close to quitting more than once, but rather than being my own worst enemy seeing as I already had a definite end date, I tried a different approach and asked to speak with the manager. When we stepped into "his office" which meant hopping in one of the farm trucks and taking a slow meandering drive through the 200 acres of crop fields, the conversation went well. He agreed with everything I brought up and thanked me for it which was probably corporate appeasement 101. Whatever, it allowed me to blow off some steam, in a tactful and polite way and I managed to tough it out long enough to get the heck out of there without quitting. I'm not going to belabor all the other times they dropped the ball. That's too negative.

As awful as the experience was, I actually liked him. The assistant manager was completely incompetent, but the manager was a decent guy. He just had too much on his plate without the wherewithal to realize this or more importantly the ability to do anything about it, even if he wanted to. My guess is that he took the job because it offered more security than a real farm because the whole vegetable operation was only one part of many, many other ventures that the million dollar organization owned so even if he had a completely awful harvest or some other type of major setback which an independently owned farm could go belly up from, he still gets a paycheck. The vegetable farm has to make a profit consistently enough in order for him to keep his job, but having the safety net, not to mention the inexperienced corporate input, unfortunately makes it far from real farming, but it sure looks pretty to the countless visitors that stream through a lot of the place all day long. The property looks like a golf course with farm buildings instead of putting greens. They have a dairy, a beef operation, cheese company, tomato aquaponics company, gift shop, market, cafeteria, miles and miles of hiking and cross-country skiing trails, even a university residing on the farm campus.

Like I said, the manager was a likable person. Everyone in this world's got to make a living. He's keeping the operation going with the help of some key people like the guys on the Jamaican field crew, the ladies and men on the Cambodian packing crew and the lead operations guy who actually grew up on the farm when his grandfather owned it a long time ago before it was bought out by the big nonprofit. Working in the corporate world even on a farm just isn't for me. The blatant anti-social policies of most big companies like the grocery store chain I delivered to or the farm itself sets a very stand-offish tone across the board. I remember showing up on my first day in the dark of the early morning hours and saying "Good morning" to two of the other guys who worked there while we were waiting for everyone else to arrive for the daily meeting and it was like pulling teeth to get them to say "Morning" back. That's messed up, to me. We got somewhat friendly by the end of the two months, but life's too short to play those games. Seems a shame. God help those who have to work at places like this and aren't able to walk away like I did after only two months. God help them.

The difference between working for a corporation and an owner, a good one that is, is that no farm owner would ever, in a million years, drive past and just wave to one of his or her workers who was staying late in the evening time after time without coming over and lending a hand or at least thanking them for their efforts. It's their farm that this person was going the extra mile on. That means a lot. Actually, it would probably be the other way around. The owner would be the one working late and I'd see this and go over to lend a hand. I wasn't doing it for brownie points or for a pat on the back. I was doing it because it needed to be done. In the corporate world, the attitude is "It ain't my job." To my surprise, one day when I was delivering some vegetables at the Whole Foods loading dock in Portland, the manager there mentioned that River had been there the day before and paid me a compliment. He told them that I was the best guy he'd ever had. I laughed it off and we jokingly gave each other a hard time about one thing or another like we always did, but deep down inside that meant the world to me. It was tough to get a mental break during my two month work stint, but I survived.

Ok, that's overwith. Now. The cold weather is here which I'm not thrilled about, but there's a clear path to freedom. Not a lot of people can say that. All I have to do is the next right thing. Thanksgiving is this week and mr.Finance, mr.Fireman and my carpenter cousin in Dedham have all invited me to dinner, but each of them are over 2hrs away, not to mention I feel like a second class citizen in their worlds. I'm probably not going to do anything. I did laundry and picked up some groceries yesterday so I don't have to go anywhere for a while. Actually, if all my parts still haven't arrived, I might look for a place to do some volunteering. That'll get me out of my head, help some people and, also, be a reality check for me. If I ever think that things are difficult, there's always someone who has it a lot worse.




This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are the product of the author's imagination and are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.