Let the Healing begin with a new Life on the Farm.
I have just spent a year cooped up in a house in the capital of California and the weakness and the fear had fully set in.
Nowhere nice to go and nothing to do but play Dungeons and Dragons and blob out, gorging myself on chinese food and Red Blobster. Waking at 2 pm and going to bed at 6 am. Toward the end there I could not even rouse myself to take the trash out and instead would coerce my 11 year old stepson to do it. Had he refused I would not have been strong enough to administer any sort of beating for his deserved insolence.
While I did receive some healing in NZ – I was still taking it very easy and much more work had to be done to burn away the bloated Elvis I had become. I had done one small wilderness mish but then had become content with burning about in the dingy checking the crayfish pots and peeling back Jack Daniels and Coke.
Well I left NZ and have arrived at my friends organic Nashi pear farm in Australia, five hours from Sydney in the rural yellow pastures of Darbys Falls now.
I have been here 7 days, slowly being nursed back to full health on organic beers made from the grain, roast dinners and hard farm work.
I am fully healed and rejuvenated. All dark and sinister forces gone , all taint of corporate food OUT, all weakness of body or mind PURGED. All replaced with natural organic healing food, good exercise and reviving sunlight ( Which stopped hurting my eyes on day three) I can run and jump now. I even climbed over a fence to escape from a swarm of bees.
The wine we made from the Nashis last year has fully matured and has been transformed into a clear yellow acidic and hard to drink beverage that three people have spat out as soon as they tried.
The Mead a friend and I made last year has against all odds turned into a clear yellow healing nectar of the gods, which is FAR to easy to drink and as an added bonus is perfect at washing the moldy bitter taste of the Nashi wine out of your mouth.
Yesterday we made a beer from malted roasted barley grain and a mead wine mixture from his own honey from hives on the farm and a huge amount of black berries that grow organically on the farm also.
I have my own little caravan that Is fully furnished in rustic, clean and unbelievably comfortable furniture. I have a big screen TV in there to watch late night documentaries of an informative nature on.
I have a stove top coffee machine and the greatest coffee in all of Australia ( Coffee Roasters French) . Secret cupboards hold piles of yummy and life building snacks like chocolate biscuits and smoked oysters for secret eating.
The warm and happy sun rises , cresting the large tree covered mountain to the west(Which mean we get a little bit of a sleep in before it comes blazing down). This wakes the little dog Jack from Js caravan and Jack come and wakes me up.
J arrives soon after and gets the tea going. Wheat crackers and concentrated Yeast extract with award winning ( Voted Worlds Best ) Danish butter I have, washed down with The best tea in the World – Twinings Earl Grey. I ride the little BMX bike into the Orchard to pick out 2 of the yellowest Juiciest Nashi pears for breakfast also. This gives me a chance to look at nature waking up all around me- The ducks and frogs in the pond, the bees and the sheep in the next door meadow.
We take our time getting ready for the day joking and swapping tales over breakfast and tea until about an hour later we mission about the orchard doing various fun and interesting pear farming tasks.
Always watching out for vicious and incredibly dangerous snakes which will send J scurrying for the gun.
If the snake bites us, the gun can be used to put one out of a screaming frothing gibbering misery which swiftly leads to heart failure and death before you can even get to the phone. Or in the case of not being bitten it can be used to BLOW the evil things head off.
Lunch time comes and its time to sample the wines over large slices of home made Italian salami, home made cracked grain bread and lashings of the Award winning Danish butter. After lunch we have a little rest and a coffee and some cakes.
Then we cruise back to work a little more swapping stories and joking about until its time for dinner.
Dinner is Huge T bone steaks with a gigantic medley of home grown organic veges roasted in a mix of freshly picked herbs – basil , rosemary , parsley with salt pepper and olive oil.
Bloated and healthy beyond belief from this feast, it is time for a few more wine or beer samplings and a documentary on the Life on Animals and insects in the Fields of the French countryside.
Fully content we retire to our respective luxury caravans to sleep calm healing sleeps up till little dog Jack rouses us for another day of country life.
But wait , one more exiting thing before you go…
Last night on exiting the shower I saw the frog was in the toilet again . J calls him Shitty. He lives under the rim with the germy germs. And when you flush the dunny he gets flushed down with the turds. But he always climbs back up to his base, under the rim.
He looks really freaky as if a diet of human excrement has some how warped him.
He is a sickly dog vomit yellow with greeny white streaks and bulging ink black eyes. His skin is very slimy and almost jelly like in texture.
I have tried to catch him a few times as I believe the toilet is no place for a frog. Its also quite scary to be dropping a duce with him swimming around and making his terrifying sickly wheezing noises. Until last night he evaded capture but I was determined. I put my shoes on and wrapped a towel around me. After a brief struggle I had his quivering polluted jelly like body in a cupped hand prison. I started to think that his freaky skin was burning my hands or at least slowly poisoning me and his foul odor made me gag. I strode quickly out of the shed and started hoofing it up in the bright and full moonlight to the dam at the top of the hill where I cold release him.
My towel came off and with Shitty in my hands I could not put it on again so I hiked the rest of the way bare arsed wearing only my shoes and glasses like some kind of half crazed, frog protecting nocturnal nudist.
I released him into the pool and he trashed about ribbiting in agony as the pure water burned at his fetid disease laden skin and bulging mutated eyes.
Within moments there was nothing left of him but for a small foamy yellow slick which quickly sank to the bottom.
Ok, not really.
He didn’t know what to do for a second as if the fresh water had stunned him with its healing powers. So I grabbed a stick and threatened him with it, forcing him to swim. His radioactive green body stood out brightly in the moonlight, as he swam about the pond looking for human feces to devour. Sadly he will have to subsist on diet of duck shit and dead birds,
I danced a little insane, naked in the country in the moonlight with nature dance on the shore of the pool, until bugs started attacking me. So I headed back, to scrub the burning frog poison from my hands and sleep the sleep of the frog saving righteous.