A Farm for the Future 01

I was born to parents who farmed; it was not their choice and not mine either. I hated being born to poor farmers, and I hated more working on the land. But as I got older, I find that the only thing that gives me the pitter patter is watching plants grow. The good Lord has blessed me with lots of land in the Philippines to plant anything I want, and the Redneck also has a good sized land here in the US for us to cultivate, enough to sustain us. We are planning to start homesteading not because we have to, but we just want to be ready when we need to.

My life here in Calgary. This was Saturday. I took the Canadian for a stroll after an early morning sun exposure.

Two days later. This is what we had and Kalya's dad and sisters are acting like this is the first time they've seen snow. At 7 in the evening making snowman, mind you.

Here's my 4 year old and 4 month old grands.

I will not be leaving the US the next two and a half year, because I need to be close to Kalya during this period. While in the US, I plan to cultivate the land of the Redneck and it's just the right size; a wooded 2 acre property in Louisiana. Although I am not ready to have a Louisiana address, I will use it as a camping property while I cultivate fruit trees and plant veggies for our use. This will at least help me use my energy to do something productive in the US instead of waiting for the time when I could stay put and develop my farm in the islands.

This is the only clear area of the 2 acres. The rest is wooded. It will be a lot of work and requires money, so it will be a slow process. I plan to plant figs and plums, I love figs with blue cheese and I love it preserved. I don't really care for plums, but it makes me "regular." Yeah. Right.

While Chat has their lake and boat here in Calgary,

I also have my yacht

And on a low tide I can dig clams.

On high tide? I look at it because I can't swim.

Chat had friends from Dallas flew up here in Calgary for the labor day weekend.

One thing I love about Calgary is the food choices; every ethnicity is very well represented here. And talking about food, I happen to think that Malaysian food is the bomb--but then I was told that, most of what I ate when the Redneck and I were in Malaysia  last month was mostly an Indian dish.

Our first day in Kuala Lumpur, this is our breakfast...Indian roti

We crossed to Penang and on to Thailand

Seven years ago I turned 50, and  I got fascinated with the idea of being a "vagabond" ( one of the perks aboard the menopausal train--quirky thoughts).  I pursued the idea and made it a personal experience. The whole endeavor filled that hole which was created by the "change of season in a woman's life". But I am now seriously tired of the movement, of the phase, and saying hello and goodbye to friends and family from one end of the globe to the next. I want to stop moving. Now.

The last two months I was in Cebu, Malaysia and Thailand, then went back to Dallas for a week and now I'm in Canada spending time with the grands. Another 4 weeks and I will be back in Dallas, but not for long because the Redneck will be working outside of Dallas. I want to stay put and buy groceries for my pantry that's good for more than 2 months, cook and shop and have lunch with friends without  a schedule to leave. I need to stop moving. Now. But more than ever, I want to have a home I can call my own, a place for Kalya to come for a visit or to stay and I miss Dallas more than ever now. Old age, grand kids--- it has a way to warm your heart and settle the voices in your head.

Once upon a time there were two brothers named Isaac and Ismael. They didn't like each other because Isaac stayed at home, went to private school, dated a white cheer leader and drove a McLaren. Though Ismael was promised the same privilege by their father, he rebelled and had daddy issues big time because he was the "illegitimate" son and he and his maid mother was kicked out of the house by his stepmom--- because his mother stayed slim even after he was born and she didn't even  yoga like stepmom.

Fast forward several years later, Ismael's once calloused butt from riding them sheep, now rides his own fleet of Mercedes Benz's (with sheep skin for seat covers) surveying the arid ground spewing with oil and gas. Then he thought to himself: Isaac, I don't care about your prestigious college degrees and inventions; I have more anger than you have degrees. And I have followers who doesn't ask questions after I promise them virgins awaiting them, after they become pulverized. 
 Now it's the 21st century and this family's feud continues and it is trickling down to my neighborhood and that makes me angry. And you bet I am  afraid, because let's not forget that the only hope for peace was born in the middle east, and some fools crucified him. I would hate to take sides but I have to cover my arse.... I am going for the Lion of Judah.

I am land rich and cash poor. I've heard people say that and I never quiet understood how that works. But now I know. You sit and stare at your property, wanting to do this and that and you can't.... because you're b.r.o.k.e.

As I sit here and ponder on life (which I do once every other day) I could not think of anything I want to do right now but go home (assuming I know where home is)and settle down. Yes, you finally heard it here. I want to stop rolling and settle down once and for all. I dream of my own home (not an apartment) and a small piece of dirt to garden. A permanent address. The question is, WHERE?

Nothing in life is free; everything comes with a responsibility, and responsibility is costly. With this haven I have, comes the financial responsibility to secure it and maintain it while I am in the US. For starters, the cost of fencing the perimeter of this 6 acre spread. I need to get back to the US quick and get a job.

Francis, my Malaysian friend is here visiting and because he lived all his life in England, his British accent which is now mixed with Malay, (as he now lives in Malaysia)  makes him harder to understand sometimes. So when he speaks, the Redneck turns to me and asks: what's he saying? And when the Redneck speaks, Francis turns to me and say: I'm sorry what's he saying? I thought, "Well, it's ok, I can translate. It must be hard; what with a Redneck and a confused Brit."  Then I realized: These 2 are just hard of hearing, that's why.