all i want playing on the record player is bluegrass and old folky country. voices crooning, banjos twanging and the fiddle dancing. i want to live in my jeans and tall boots. old worn clothes soft in all the right places. weathered skin, taught across my body... from hours and hours of working my farm and riding the horses. i want to have chores and an open space that is mine.... with the possibility of emptiness or fullness. of plenty to do, and also time to explore all the things i havent had time to do yet.
the romantic in me wants to rise with sun. sit, after it falls with a drink rattling in hand, in a rocker or on the porch steps. a dog one one side a cat on the other. listening to the night creatures. more stars than i have seen thus far in my life stretching above me about to fall on my head.
i dont mind a hard life. i almost want it more. to grow alot of my own food. to go to sleep exhausted each night. wiped out, but happier than most can ever dream of.
i want these things to be the norm. 
right now i love what i do. but there is more. this is just part of my path. the future gets closer and further away everyday. closer as i know it will happen. farther as each day is worth living instead of ignoring....
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