I know my posting has been patchy of late. Part of the problem is that I have been very involved in the approaching showdown over California coursing ban.
I am also spinning my wheels trying to get a novel started. But part of the problem is simply this: it is spring, after one of my toughest winters in years.
Those of my readers who know me personally know that we have not had a working vehicle since late August, when both of our ancient (’87, ’90) engines blew. Shortly thereafter, the east wall of our 120 year old stone house started toppling outwards, showering us with rocks and chunks of mortar while we slept. Obviously, the most important thing we had to do was to buttress the walls, so we diverted our money there.
No car meant, for the first time since I was 17( I’m 56) virtually no hunting. I got my hounds out a few times but I did no falconry or shooting whatsoever. Luckily my friend Bodie took up my hawk Tuuli who has, with the assistance of his older lurcher and one of our pups, taken thirteen hares at last count. But not only have I been suffering from what amounts to house arrest or at least extreme cabin fever (and less wild meat than we are used to)– my creative processes seem to have ground to a halt. I can’t seem to write without regular walks, and not just within the village’s confines either. (And the village’s edges, where I have always hunted, are being replaced by subdivisions– a later rant). As Bruce Chatwin’s elegant borrowing from St. Jerome says, “Solvitur ambulando”.
The engine on the Jeep should be ready “soon”. When it is, I have hawks’ nests to search for in canyon and wood, bees’ colonies to reconnoiter, places to explore. So forgive me if I may blog less. It may be that I actually write more– walking, as I said above, seems to unblock my head.
Also in spring– time for the garden, pigeon raising, and more. This is an apology, but it is not a complaint…