Day 30: “There is a concatenation of events in this best of all possible worlds..."

This morning started early, but only because Laurette is off to Eilat, where she gets to be on the beach. I may try to go down there next week because when else will I get to. Then I can go to Jordan and Egypt in the same day but not very far in either.

Oh yeah, the action shot. It's not
easy taking a picture and milking
at the same time.

So I had to do the goats before I went down to work on clearing the field. I am constantly amazed that I am gathering the materials that will be my food in the coming days. Val says that we can take up the rocks and make a garden, but who wants to put that much effort and energy into subsistance? Isn't working and buying the stuff enough?

I've not shown you the walk to the bustan or home in some time. This is the uphill walk home.

And then this afternoon it was back to clearing the field. My goal for today was to get the field cleared of rocks and stones. I made it! It is kind of silly that we put earth's offerings along the fence. There must be some way to clean them all up. But this is how it looks around the bustan: stones everywhere. I guess they can be seen as trophies of the labor itself. Of course, the fruit, vegetables, nuts, and whatever else are far better tasting than the stones (don't ask), but the stones are a constant reminder long after the fruit has passed to where ever.

Here is the sketch again. I worked on it while I was alone. I am glad that the family is back, but I have to admit that I really liked being alone. Part of the reason that I am here and working so hard is so that I can come to terms with some of life with which I'm struggling, and I want to do this alone. I'm not one of those persons who is afraid to make a decision by himself. I've always been good at cutting others out while I make my own way. But I've suffered some of those decisions and some of that pruning.

It has been a rough couple of years for me. For some reason I was having terrible nightmares and flashbacks. I've always had them, since my part in the war. But they were more intense and more frequent. Val was so patient and loving and kind and supportive and... And school was patient with me, too, as I went every Tuesday to the VA for help. I've finally gotten a handle on some of the thoughts and my behaviors, and this started a while ago. Charla, my momtor at school and a wonderful artist, commented one day that she was glad that some of the cloud had lifted. I'd never shared with her that there was a cloud, but momtors see such things.

So I've worked on this stuff in groups and individually with doctors, but it is alone that I think I can do the best work. After all, they are my demons to slay or make amends with. Each rock that I dig up or carry or pile is me making atonement. Each plant that I help grow is a ghost I can lay to rest. Digging my hands into the desert sand is as if I am healing the wounds that I've caused in the world, pulling out the festering memories and replanting the potential to do well. All that is well indeed, Candide, so let us cultivate our gardens together.