Programming at 50

You might think that all your good ideas are behind you. I always did. Once I graduated college I thought I would never learn anything again. I hadn’t learned much; I just didn’t really understand that. 50 solar passes and I’m just beginning to understand where the sun will set and the moon rise — daily.

As a child I enjoyed being outside and making explosives.  Today, an adult I enjoy pursuing endeavors less likely to land me in jail. One of the fruits of learning to live within one’s means, is enjoying the evening light and sunrise. During the growing season in California we get up early. After a little while I learned to get up early every day, it is less painful that way. I’m not happy about this, but it is easier to follow the sun.

Another position in life I enjoy as chief innovator is making things up. In farming one must make many things up and I just never understood just how much life was going to be an exercise in  improvisation. In farming you can’t count on the weather [see global warming] but seeds do grow. It amazes me how much DNA is open source.

Whenever I plant something, which is seldom as my wife takes care of the living things and I just deal with those related to Maxwell’s spectrum. I am utterly amazed that it grows. That is where most people would prefer to leave it. At the positive side but that is just one spin of a standard model that is more complex than a recipe for strawberry jam.

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Behind the scenes of any farm is recycling. The decay of all kinds of protein under the daily does of UV-B which at this time of year is unrelenting. The pure joy of a dog rolling in a chicken, killed by a fox several days earlier, under the shade of the only tree with foliage on the farm — slow roasting into that perfect temperature for all kinds of bacteria to decompose a hen. The pure joy, witnessed but not photographed, of a k9 applying the best perfume of rotten flesh. It was a sight to see her kick her legs up in the air like a four legged fist pump, nothing was better in that moment than seriously rotten flesh and feathers.

I could sift big things of data in my head and when I was younger the activity of imagining the universe was easier. My choice is simple, an office or this; rotten and shit — and I will choose this. Walking out side to the offensive embrace of metric tons of horse shit is so much better than a boss. Sure my bank is currently my boss, but soonly I will change that too.

I can not advocate enough for a life that you choose, one that you find your own path within. You may find your self depressed one day, let the sun set and remember where it set. It will rise tomorrow regardless of your issues. So much of this is forgotten when you live in a box, on pavement, and fall asleep to pixels.

 

 

 



Categories: Farming

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