country girl

sunday was my birthday. this makes me a gemini. and i try and embrace it with all my halves and wholes.

It started yesterday, well, it's been building for a while... listening to gillian welch and chris pureka non-stop (take a listen).

Yesterday on my way to work, i listening to the only cd in my car.... rising appalchia, two sisters who i've mentioned before. always decorated from head to toe, the embodiment of the addornment i wished i could muster as a teenager, abandoned due to the elaborate process it took to shed all the layers, bracelets, earings, necklaces, belts etc everyday before i got on a horse.

and here i am, sitting in my car, listening to them crooning in beautiful harmonies, memories of herbal conferences, west philly life, and images of what my life will be when i live in the country.

this is my parents house.... but you get the idea.

it's so hard to know so badly what will be.... it's been written in my notebooks. outlined in sketches and descriptors. how it's going to look, how it's going to be run, how many horses, how many chickens, where the garden will be in relation to the house, the barn, the gate, the bramble around the outside of the property, the trees shading the porch and around the perimeter  of the pastures...

i've filled books and cataloged it all in my brain.
i want to wear flannel every day, i want to beable to show my arms in the summer, and where my ripped shirts with nice britches. having my horse shining from miles away, and the dirt on my hands permanent. hair always twisted up and pinned haphazardly, weather worn skin, and a hat to match. outside all day every day, time in the garden and on the back of a horse, circling the property. fixing fences, collecting eggs and home grown veggies for dinner. making my way my own way. 

i think i am a country girl.
I think i look like a city slicker, kindda. not totally polished. a little wary, a little too unfazed by fireworks/gun shots.
sneakers instead of boots.
laundry dried in a dryer or in the basement instead of a line out the back door.
a 14x14 foot plot consideered a nice sized back yard instead of a nice-sized box stall for my horses.

oh, i can't wait. biding my time, trying to figure out the best way to do it. taking bits and pieces from everywhere and every one.

shape-shifting daily. beer bar waitress, scuzzi barn hand, yogi, put-together young 'trainer'. it will be a miraculous day when all the roles can meld into one. me.
my fragmented gemini-ness can be one holding it all together, living the life we've all dreamed up together while paying our respective dues.

i can't wait for it to be ok for me to be dirty at work again. and do it my way.