Saturday, September 12, 2009

less than 3

. i drink coffee like water
. and still never know what to say
. i still don't even know how to get out of
. bed half the time it's not pretty nor endearing
. i whisper your scerets, i am still looking to be saved
. sometimes i am too weak, sometimes i am too strong,
. here you go; i'll give you everything for one last time, last chance
. my heart is ugly, but it could be yours

. you're in my web now .

:: Cursive - "The Recluse" ::

cliche hearts.

Science v.s. Nature

I've always wanted to own a shitty, big ass Ford Bronco, covered in mud, manual roll down windows and I don't really know why. Well, maybe because that was my dads ride, he's a real country guy. And when I would see him I would fight for the front seat, because I was able to work the cassette player, AC/DC was always on. When I didn't hear them, the rattling of the POS was the main sound, but it was a good sound(?) Meaning, the sound of shit [about to fall off] brought a smile to my face, god only knows why. But, he always made smoking a cigarette in this car bad ass. And the mud was just the right amount. And the amount of times I hit my head jumping up to get into tha car and hop in the back was endless, or how many times "ANG" would shove the seat back in place BEFORE I was done getting in. Therefore, the seat that he was pushing on, was litterally shoving me in the backseat, obviously I lost at "shotty." (Eileen can you hear my YOUR SO ANNOYING WITH YOUR BIKE ANG! voice?") I don't know where this blog is going, nor was it the topic of what i was intentually going to write about...oh well, I'm going to roll with it. But not just anyone could drive a crappy, run down Bronco. It takes character, followed with an image of someone with rough hands; working hands. See, my dad lives the twigs. What I used to say, "Where the Blair Witch was filmed" so he was constantly working outdoors, no matter the season or weather. Always filthy. Always diggin' up something, building something, burning fires, cutting his 14 acres of property with a friggin' weedwacker. Always made me laugh, because it normally took him 2 days + to finish. I would lap him when I drove the quads, drive by and laugh, he was cutting in the same area. He fits the "Bronco image" to a T. Now that I touch base on this, I don't think I am ready for it. In my defense, he did ALWAYS put me to work. I probably took down and cut down more trees than the average girl. If I wasn't cutting trees down, I was hunting....of course not shooting animals! I was lugging all the equipment while daddy-o made me go on hour long hikes while I threw deer dumps at him. I loved the hikes though. He was/is a science teacher, so he knew all weirdo facts...fact: he is a weirdo. He always thought new lessons on hikes. Showed me what I could eat from growing plants. I remember this one plant, you split it and it smells like Winter fresh gum. I called it the "Winter fresh plant" because I was such an original thinker back then. Miles away from my dads Log cabin', because after all...."WE are in the country" that's all he ever said! OK, miles away...deep in these woods, there was always something new. No matter how many times we've trailed through the woods...I would always find crazy old antiques, old glass bottles, once bullets, an old shack and this dope iron gate. It was beautiful and stood high. The ONLY thing that wasn't new, were the rock walls. Evey so often, hiking through the woods, you'd see rock walls. I was once taught a lesson about the land, although I must have been a bad listener because I forgot..that or i was too busy trying to find a good hiking stick. Those are well needed. You need a stick for support and to dig into the ground when your going up hill or to trip your dad. But Rock walls and land... I think it had something to do with Indians and the time of war. The rock walls served as protection and their share of the land. That's all I remember. The best feeling in the world just might be, sitting in a tree and watching deers eat. It really is so peaceful and cute at the same time. How anyone can shoot them is beyond me. Although, they do make for some good ass meat. I'm sorry. It was a one time deal. Even when they would run off, putting their tails up, showing the white end on the tail ment they were scared and sensed something around them. God knows I wasn't able to be quite and sit in one spot longer than 5 mins in those trees. So off they would run, white tail up and all. Bye bye Bambi. Once we got closer to home, I was now leader of the hike. My dad use to make me navigate which is a joke itself. Everyone knows i am HORRIBLE with my sense of direction, go figure, I can find my way out of the woods like a boss. Oddly enough, I used landmarks...even though everything in the woods looks the same, dirt, trees, poop, animals and rocks. Once we got to our property, it was tradition like to go into what we called "coolie dipping pond." It was a stream that turned into a pond, that at first, you can only dip your butt into tha water, but then you travel up stream and you are able to swim! And trust me, you wanted to swim. I used to be called "Mall Girl" when I was younger, that was because I was a New Yorker. Pops really doubted I had what it takes to get down and dirty. When I got a little older, I earned my name as "Nature Woman." He used to call me that because I did in fact, like to get dirty. Catch fish and frogs with my hands. Swim in ponds. Squish my feet in the mud. Shower out doors. Sleep outside. He was so good at teaching me about the stars. I think he tought me to love Astrology honestly. A fire was built and beside it we sat on logs looking up at the stars, flash lights as pointers. Feeding me "quite food" which was Hersey chocolate bars. That always got me to shut up, still does. It's weird to think, outdoors and nature can shape you into a person. It totally has for me. Although my outer layer gives off the cupcake dress wearing type, the inner me is adventurous tomboy-like explorer. NY isn't much of a playground for me. Nor is my dad much of a teacher anymore. I miss those days, and I miss that dad. I'll keep the best; as the present image. Remember when I said I want a bronco? Add log cabin' to the list.

. It needs to be dirty and more hooptie to own my heart, but I still got love.

+ My dad lives in Rhinebeck and before the cold weather comes, I've been considering taking a drive up there. It's a little over 3 hours long of a ride. But the town is absolutely gorgeous and filled with history. A great place to capture amazing photos. Let me know it you are interested!