1 Man, 1 Hunter, 1 Nomad.

Whats In A Name? Me. - 15/04/11 Friday

Conversation and clarity. The morning of Thursday 13th April my legs took me where they wanted me to go. I spent time with Simon and Jasmine, Nick, the Hub volunteers and finally Ayres. Through these interactions I have been able to gain reassurance. Reassurance that we manifest our thoughts and realities. Understanding my position in this complex solar system of people, space, actions, words and atoms.
It was during this mornings wee that I was struck by the realisation I don't have a name. How can I hope to find something, namely myself, if it continues to remain unnamed?
Why, that's like asking for directions when you can't recall where you're headed. It's not impossible but its a damn sight more difficult in my experience.
My legal and business name is on the front of this book. But that is merely the account name of the Government issued Life Annuity. I need perhaps to research tribal naming traditions, and like Hercules, suffer the trials necessary in gaining my true name.

Frans New Hat

A Rather Delicious Dandelion Soup.

Mulching

Nicks Hand Plough, Good Fun And Labour Saving.

A Budding Willow I Planted.

M Jones

Community Shopping - Tuesday 12/04/11

Embarked on a research mission yesterday. We purchased our days insurance at 10:10 and made a trip to the tip. Fran returned from a sleep over just as we got back. With our merry band complete, we went community shopping. That is, we viewed a place Heartwood.
A really great community, very different set up to Lammas. They live almost as an extended family. Legally they are structured as a Housing Co-Op under the Industrial and Provident Societies Act.
It is a place we have been recommended, but they are presently at capacity.
In truth, an extended family is probably not what I am after right now, if anything, I'd rather downsize.
Whilst there, I mucked out a stable and helped build a cord wood wall. Emma helped Richards partner Staci mix cob that was used to plug the gaps. With that experience gained, today we built a cob oven!

The Shrew Hunter

Mixing The Cob

The Finished Product.

She Worked Really Hard.

Oh That's Right, No She Didn't... Lazy Beast.

Tah Dah! Some Call That Look 'Organic' Ya Know...

A Tour By The Households Head Gardner.

Mixing Cob At Heartwood.

Didn't Take Long With Logs That Size!

A Very Tranquil Ty Bach...

M Jones

At The Devils Feet - Sunday 10/04/11

Henry David Thoreau's Walden is rapidly becoming my bible and creed. If I were a believer in re-incarnation, I would swear that this man was myself in a previous existence. Although he was obviously more disciplined, not having impregnated a girl at the age of 17. I envy his freedom and fear the loneliness of the life he describes. Whilst I could abandon my now second time pregnant partner and young daughter as could any truly free being, I live in terror of my conscience. I am petrified of myself even if I follow what I know to be my life's true course and calling. My battle at this moment in time is to fight that calling with every fibre of my being until the day I can act upon it without regret. I know this to be pure folly. A foolish idea that will inevitably find me prostrate at the Devil's feet begging for another chance to live my life how I want to live it. I am aware I have always felt trapped and emotionally blackmailed into servitude of my 'lover' and it is my own moral code that binds my being and soul to her and my daughter. My daughter who has become a dear friend to me compounding my heartache further still. In the past, I once attempted suicide in the belief it would grant me the release I crave. I know now that the answer lies not in the darkness, but here in the light of this life, presently just out of reach.
Thoreau's work has become to me, akin to a pornographic magazine. Naughty. Taboo. Forbidden. I can only read a small portion at a time before my lust and envy grow too strong to bear. I flirt with the dream, then reason with my poor heart and convince my disturbed mind that what is portrayed within this books covers will never be mine.
It is in moments of bitter confusion like this that I pine for a cigarette. Could it be I enter a 'Self Destruct' mode? If that which I desire can never be mine then what point is there to this miserable existence?
If I were my own counsel I would advise myself to burn the book and never dare read another page. Ugly filth such as tobacco and nicotine are easy to live without, beautiful literature is not.

M Jones

Zombification - Saturday 09/04/11

Lobster coloured children maraud the site, some in varying degrees of zombification brought on by probable sun stroke. 25C at 19:10 should indicate the glorious weather we're enjoying. The hawthorn trees have burst with white blossom, nursed seeds and seedlings are now rocketing skyward. Some already falling prey to slugs.

Finally utilised a window of opportunity and moved the lattice, rafters and wheel of the Yurt under cover in the barn. A cursory inspection suggests with a little TLC and a new door if the original can't be located and we should have a half decent home. Presently that brings the count to three and make logistic a further concern. We are definitely moving up in the world! Three homes owned outright after just a year. I am becoming quite the property mogul I fear.

M Jones

A Hungry Man Observes No Seasons - Friday 08/04/10

After a period of dark skies, fog, mist and much needed rain, the weather has returned to glorious sunshine and wonderfully warm days.
Spent yesterday and today helping out Jude with the repair of the door to her compost toilet. She and I have bartered and agreed to exchange time and skills in a mutually beneficial arrangement. Alongside many others, one thing I really like about Jude is her books. She has a great collection, nearly everyone of them interests me in some way. Currently the most interesting are The Complete Yurt Handbook by Paul King(would help with repairing the Yurt we've been given) and Make Your Garden Feed You by E.T Brown. They will have to wait however, as my current queue has lengthened with the arrival of Henry David Thoreau's Walden: Or, Life in the Woods.
From the little I have read of Walden, I can already see the author is not only ahead of his time, but also a man who shares my own thoughts and feelings on the subjects of our society, our past, our lives and our problems (which appear to stem from one or a combination of the aforementioned). I can tell that this is going to be a deeply thought provoking book.

I am still waiting to hear back from Kit after sending him and email of our thoughts a week ago. I deduce from this that things are perhaps hotting up his end with his first born due any day now. Without knowing his opinion of our thoughts and situation, I find myself often contemplating the myriad of potential outcomes, I will refrain from assaulting the reader with yet another of my lengthy and inconclusive lists.

Last night upon returning from a walk, Nick asked if I had read the note he'd left for us. Apparently our possible intentions have reached the ears of some of the locals who dropped by to view our static. It may transpire that our hand is forced somewhat if we are offered the £1400 it has cost us.

Above all else, today is the day I finally settled the bill on my new .22 Webley Raider 10 Pre Charged Pneumatic Air Rifle. I expect to receive it by the end of the week. Of course with most of the seasons now closed it should be just in time to be too late. Of course, that depends on how hungry I get...