Songs Of Peace

Aaaack. Summer is truly winding down quick. It was still dark when I woke up this morning and it was cool enough to need a sweat shirt. Both Romeo and Sydney have scratches on their legs. It comes from constant exposure to the dew on the grass. I have been trying to make a more concerted effort to brush them every day and to medicate their legs before I turn them out. After owning Syd for a year, I can finally admit that she is one bitchy mare. Every time I try and gently remove the scurf from her legs, she aims to give me a nose job with a well placed kick. I finally gave up this morning and I am ashamed to admit I threatened the glue factory if she kept up her attitude. The worst part? I think I really meant it. This is the time of year that I feel the weight of depression setting in. I guess I am a sun whore. I just can't get enough daylight. The waning days of summer give me a sense of dread that I can't shake off. I don't mind the cooler weather or the change of season

Yesterday was the one year mark since I lost Gwen. I have owned several horses over the years but losing Gwen and her brother Merlin four years before her have been the hardest. Maybe because they both were relatively young. Both were 15 and died from colic. No doubt there was some genetic weakness there,though the vet claimed it was just a horrible coincidence. Often I feel that everything in my life seems like a horrible coincidence. Gene Shay, co-founder and host of the Philadelphia Folk Festival, defined folk music in an April 2003 interview by saying: "In the strictest sense, it's music that is rarely written for profit. It's music that has endured and been passed down by oral tradition. [...] Also, what distinguishes folk music is that it is participatory—you don't have to be a great musician to be a folk singer. [...] And finally, it brings a sense of community. It's the people's music." I went to the Philadelphia Folk Festival this weekend. The wea

Complete writers block. I am on vacation with nothing to say. Not sure if that's good or bad. Every time I start to relax and have some fun something pulls the rug out from me. When will I learn to take all the F-ing rugs out of my head and embrace bare floors??? Maybe I need new shoes. When all else fails.... go watch a sunset.

I had originally wrote this draft in August of 2008 but never posted it. So often things are too painful at the time for me to actually hit the post button. I am glad I write. It really helps a year and a half later for me to see how far I have come since writing this. Tonight is the interview with Rihanna about her assault from Chris Brown. The excerpts I have seen so far have brought up some of these memories. So, I am choosing to just post this without editing it. Sometimes it is better to see it the way it was the first time around. Once again, it is more telling that there is a huge gap since my last entry. Usually, when I am on vacation, I'll write like a crazy woman. This is the first of anything besides an email or two. I haven't even written much in my journal. Most entries start with the word exhausted. I had written before about the little house here in Ship Bottom that I am renting for the week. It is the same house that I had rented for Prick and I, a year ago. I e