Gratitude and Dead Sheep

I live where roads are more often dirt than paved.  Rural living.  It’s what I wanted.

I went into town today.  Got a coat at the thrift store.  A heavy-duty canvas number which will keep me warm during the wet, muddy, cold winter months.  Also from the thrift store:  a book about a Native American girl in Alaska who runs away from home to become lost in the wilds.  I love a good wilderness survival story.

I really appreciate thrift stores.  It’s awesome to have a venue for the exchange of used goods.   My local thrift store has made it affordable for me to have quality clothing, house goods, and new books to read.

Recently, through a neighbor, we learned dogs had killed a number of sheep nearby.  We drove by the scene of the incident and saw a considerable number of dead sheep  Thousands of dollars I’d imagine.  Rumor has it the owner of the sheep shot 2 of the dogs but a third fled, avoiding injury.  The three dogs are owned by a local family who is maybe (from my perspective) overstretched in their responsibilities.  I don’t know the people in a  personal capacity.    The gossip included the dog owners not making payment for the sheep.  The sheep owner is gunning for the dog that got away. 

This is part of rural life.

Some experiences are a bummer.

Bad things happen.  So do good things.  Humans quantify experience based on “feelings”.  I theorized that existence wants all possibilities to be expressed.  There’s a constant dance between chaos and order.  I’m a conduit of this reality.  I get to play by interacting with chaos and order and have experiences.

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