The frogs, the frogs, the frogs... I thought things had died down a few days ago, procreation achieved around. After all, they've been a-chirping for a couple months now. But no, the lullaby continues. And each day for the past week or so, as the dog and I walk by the pond, I stop and look for tadpoles. Nothing. Egg clusters? Maybe covered in algae. However, this morning I again saw a lone pollywog, perhaps the same one from a couple weeks ago, for it was larger. But just one.
The pond is at capacity, over it's banks if one considers seepage in the surrounding grasses past the berm and below the water line. We had a fair amount of rain last night and this morning, which I mention only to say that I should have mowed the lawn yesterday when I had the chance. Once a week until July when things finally get bone dry.
I did load the ex-mule boarders with compost. Three loads, which just about depleted the pile, all except for where the road-killed deer from this winter had yet to finish off.
"Are you sure you want to give them that much? Won't we need it?
"We're not growing a garden this year."
"What about for the yard? Don't we have to fill in some areas?"
"We have plenty of dirt for that. More than enough."
Yep, no garden. I'm torn. While it's nice to have the veggies, a lot of them I can't eat at the moment and the time spent weeding and such might be better spent readying the joint for sale. The word is out even though the farm isn't on the market quite yet. Still, we may have a couple coming from the Midwest next week to take a look. Bless their young, dreamer hearts. This despite not having a clear idea of where we'll go next. Of course, we could still be sitting on this place in two years, and each year we'll debate about the garden, I'm sure.
The job prospects? I'm glad you asked. Nothing. I went to the state job center last week, jumped through some preliminary hoops, scored well, and had a sit-down when it was suggested I might contact the Vocational Rehab office. I swear my dick reduced in size by 50% at that utterance. Could be fun, though: fodder.
Professional napper? It's that time. Just a short one, for I have to get my art in the mail for the show next month. Then it's back to getting my art on that online gallery I've mentioned. Stuff's there now: a few paintings and fewer photos. Yet, I've selected several more photos that may stand a chance. I'll link when it's all up and ready.
And I have to make some jello.
Good luck with the job hunt. In my case (12 years ago), I found that if you have a job they fall all over themselves to hire you. If you are out of work, you can't get a job no matter what. There's some kind of psychology at work there. Also, they are not supposed to discriminate against you because of age, but the definitely do.
ReplyDeleteDon't get discouraged, it'll work out.
Thanks for the good thoughts, Mojo. Yes, I'm familiar with the "have to have a job first" mentality. An old boss used to say: "You know when it's a good time to look for a new job? When you get one." I'm afraid I shot myself in the foot some time ago, first when I was freelancing, and certainly now the other foot has taken some fire as well. As for the agism, that's been around forever, and it is very much alive and well in the art world. Always looking for he next young art star. As for teaching, it is unspoken but understood that an old guy like me doesn't stand a chance for a host of reasons.
ReplyDeleteStill, as is abundantly clear, I have a passion that will not be subdued, whether it "works out" or not. Whether others take advantage of it is not entirely up to me.