RE: дупка - пламен - последиците
03-10-2017, 07:02 PM
Point [124]
![[Image: tumblr_omm2ck0WwO1rr2h9co1_1280.jpg]](https://68.media.tumblr.com/256ae6b7b2d95875a1c1878e7622599b/tumblr_omm2ck0WwO1rr2h9co1_1280.jpg)
This evening is pretty. The clouds made a cup for the sun. The sun sank down into that hollow and then the clouds slipped north to close the circle. Now the center glows like a hotter forge than anything we humans can make. I still feel the afterimage of the sun on my skin, though it's no longer shining here. It's been warm, and I'll probably be burned tomorrow since we spent all day harvesting the old Bellfontaine peach orchard and then walking back home carefully pulling the wagons (these are super ripe peaches so the slightest jostle makes them bruise).
Tomorrow Angel and I will be canning our share of the peaches. Angel did canning as a teen, back before they moved to the state, so they know the proper way to do it so you don't get germs in the jars. We've already made a lot of blackberry jam and other preserves which are pretty good. They've never made salted meat before but the village got a driver who came over from the coast with a big load of salt so we're going to try salting down some pork once George Packard kills his pig.
Strange, I was just thinking how warm I was, and now my hand is shaking. Might be exhaustion? Maybe I should go see that doctor who's building a house in the village. It's kind of funny that everyone else is going up to Cemetery Hill to harvest wood and she's just scavenging the wood in the houses people left here. People are kinda superstitious about the old houses - I remember Jane Williams being really reluctant even to just climb over the fence into the peach orchard, today. I've never found anything particularly scary about them, except that some of them have spiders and bats and raccoons which can be dangerous if you mess with them. But yeah, I suddenly don't feel very good, just in the last few minutes of sitting here.
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Points [18]
This evening is pretty. The clouds made a cup for the sun. The sun sank down into that hollow and then the clouds slipped north to close the circle. Now the center glows like a hotter forge than anything we humans can make. I still feel the afterimage of the sun on my skin, though it's no longer shining here. It's been warm, and I'll probably be burned tomorrow since we spent all day harvesting the old Bellfontaine peach orchard and then walking back home carefully pulling the wagons (these are super ripe peaches so the slightest jostle makes them bruise).
Tomorrow Angel and I will be canning our share of the peaches. Angel did canning as a teen, back before they moved to the state, so they know the proper way to do it so you don't get germs in the jars. We've already made a lot of blackberry jam and other preserves which are pretty good. They've never made salted meat before but the village got a driver who came over from the coast with a big load of salt so we're going to try salting down some pork once George Packard kills his pig.
Strange, I was just thinking how warm I was, and now my hand is shaking. Might be exhaustion? Maybe I should go see that doctor who's building a house in the village. It's kind of funny that everyone else is going up to Cemetery Hill to harvest wood and she's just scavenging the wood in the houses people left here. People are kinda superstitious about the old houses - I remember Jane Williams being really reluctant even to just climb over the fence into the peach orchard, today. I've never found anything particularly scary about them, except that some of them have spiders and bats and raccoons which can be dangerous if you mess with them. But yeah, I suddenly don't feel very good, just in the last few minutes of sitting here.
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Points [18]