Darius and Fire

Five months, sorry Internet. Google has forced me off google reader and I’ve landed on digg reader, which doesn’t have a feature yet that gives me only unread items in order. I find reminders of L and worry about her, like I do. Or care about her. So I write?

I’m tired, and it saps my motivation to be productive. Not like a year ago, the anti-depressant really made a difference there. It was implied post sleep study that I likely wasn’t getting a good enough quality sleep due to periodic limb movement and mild sleep apnea. I stopped bothering with the CPAP machine months ago, as I wasn’t seeing any difference. Have I always been not getting quality sleep and I just never noticed? My memories of sleep in Seattle are that it happened once the day was done. Now it stalks me whenever various responsibilities and expectations slow me down and it can catch up.

I have a daughter. She’s quite awesome. I’m confident that between her mother and me she’s going to turn out pretty amazing. I tried teaching her to drive, but she can’t reach anything yet. I’ll try again later. Life’s course continues to sway, occasionally with forceful nudging from Kate, and now we wonder about DF’s well being, our impact, if there will still be tractors in twenty years.

I passed my state firefighter exams (FF1 + FF2). They are apparently pro-board accredited so it turns out I’m nationally certified. A lot of thought goes into identity the last couple of years; Kate’s starting to examine her weaning farming as I’ve been recalibrating to this rural life. I didn’t use to plan more than a month out, and now most of my plans are for years in the future. For myself, for family, for Kate and Darius, for the land.

We’re up to 29 chickens again. 23 chicks made it from this years order of 27, and have been integrated with the remnants of others. I’ve fully surrounded the run with electric fence and it’s been successful except losing the last rooster from the remnants at first due to a hole in the main fence. I need to replace the main fence soon, chicken wire isn’t sturdy enough to be used as fence.

All in all, everything is pretty good. Which I guess is why I don’t write much anymore. Somethings still wrong, or something is wrong, but I don’t know what it is and it mostly manifests physically. Naps don’t help.

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