I've never used the term "freedom" very much. I just lived life, never considering the caliber of the process. Lately, I seem to hear the term a lot. It has become one of those overused words that everyone says but no one agrees on the meaning, like "hero". Lately I have heard it referencing relationships, both together and apart, gun ownership, living in Alaska, building a boat, sailing a boat, working, not working I will not presume to attempt to figure out the meaning of the word, but it seems have become the term for either the life we currently have or the life we wish to have. I know that it is a myth pursued but not attained. A panacea to cure our discontent or the ills of society. Happiness, whatever that is, is not necessarily tied to the concept. I am currently on vacation, not free. I'll never be free until they scatter my ashes into the current body of water or on top of the compost pile, whichever is closer. Nothing will have to be pried from my cold dead fingers I value nothing that much. This boat is merely a path to do something else for a while. Would I do it again? Every endeavor in our lives when looked back upon would be answered the same way: No! Then we move on swearing upon the Gods that this time will be different, honest.
Freedom is having a beer so you can lubricate the ol' grey matter to produce this blog
We were enjoying our freedom doing more yard work. Yard work is freedom. Freeing the Mountain Ash from it's dead branches.
Branches free to become firewood.
Ben freeing the yard of a messy weed plot.
Freedom for daylilies to pursue a life somewhere else.
This bush is free from the confines of its pot and living the free life of a shrub.
Free to grow fat and happy in its own plot. But wait! With its new freedom will it now suppress the freedoms of the native plants that lived in the area, disregarding their rights?
The water heater is cranky and doesn't want to heat all the time. Ben took it apart and cleaned everything up. Now we are free to take cold showers for the next couple days. No more hot water oppression! New parts on Monday, we hope.
Freedom is blackberries ripening in the back yard.
I picked up the sheet of Baltic birch ply today. More to come on that. This is project mysterioso until I figure out if it will work.
Seems like a sufficient number of plies.
A wildflower fighting for its freedom among the front pavers. So, stop feeding yourself male bovine feces and live the life ya gots! We are thinking about going back to working on the boat. It sure doesn't smell like freedom yet, it just smells!
The Music♪: Slim Gaillard Trio "Cement Mixer"
Another tribute to the age of machines.
Chuck! Send money!