One of the good things about our farm is that it is 2 miles down the road from another farm where many lovely donkeys live. One of the BAD things about our farm is that it is 2 miles down the road from another farm where many lovely donkeys live.
This young fellow was born to Gabriella and Angelo, parents to my beloved Pino Blangifroti and Lucia. He is as charming as any small ass can be. And at this tender age [4 days] his hair is as soft as a bunny. And he leaps, and jumps, like a bunny. Which makes the entire package very sweet, like a ...bunny.
If you've been visiting here awhile, you might remember my moral crisis when I first met a then baby Lucia. Since that writing, I of course put stealing Lucia aside, and bought her. It was the best thing I ever did with my money, besides bringing the first two donkeys home [even grumpy Paco adds a certain twist to the barnyard that I cherish]. I don't know where this whole donkey life is headed, but I'm holding on and enjoying the ride.
The weather is warming. My focus is scattered, like the seeds I haven't planted yet.
I think the death of a parent takes a lot of creative energy away - or perhaps it's that the death of a parent allows the artist to rest that creative energy for outward purposes, and use the energy to plant new seeds internally in the worn heart. From that will come a summer harvest. I am not a faucet. Nor is it my purpose to create and create only for external showcases.
I will go to the barn now and see if the new beautiful silver tomcat is back - a definite dumped pet, a real beauty, who cried all morning in the woods, and then suddenly rushed to me and let me hold him and carry him back to the barn. He was very hungry. He told me of his journey - it was shocking, he said, to have been left at the road. He didn't understand it.
