seat at the cool kids table

 It's a little fun when people who think they're cool try to talk down to me by referencing a group for information, and i'm personal friends with the leaders of the group.  Like the person saying "Look at me I'm so cool because I know about this person," and then the person makes comments on my Facebook wall that make it clear we hang out.  

The wisdom of going where celebrated and not just tolerated is one that firmly resounds with me.  In this city, some people seem to think I'm pretty great.  I move through the world comfortably here, not giving a fuck what anybody thinks and finding tribes in the process.  

I think often of "what comes next" but I honestly don't know if that will be up to me - I may just be waiting for another disaster to make decisions for me.  I have liked many places that I've lived, and I REALLY miss my neighbors at my last place, but there is no place in the world where I feel as much myself as this place.  

And so I plant fruit trees in the backyard, anticipating good harvests in five years.  

Yesterday I went out of town to a friend of a friend's place to pick elderberries.  She's on acreage that was homesteaded 120 years ago, with fruit trees planted over the years.  It's an amazing place with all the things to eat, but it has her completely overwhelmed.  And I don't want to get to that spot. Another friend I visited a few weeks ago is in the same spot - an exquisite piece of land on a bayou with gorgeous landscaping, which is far too much for them to keep up with.  And I do need to consider these demands as I make plans.  Lawn is easy - hire somebody to mow and whack, that's the way here.  But it's much harder and more expensive to find people to weed and mulch and maintain more natural spaces.  My friend converted her lawn to other plantings a few years ago, and she is spending so much time on its upkeep, which is not what I want.  

OK, time to focus back on elderberry processing.  Siiiiiiigh.  These buggers take forever. The plan is to can elderberry juice, which could be converted to syrup or whatever else as necessary.  If I can get enough, I'll give to a friend who plans to make syrup to distribute mutual aid style.  This weekend I plan to go out with a friend to find more berries (she thinks she found some, but they are new to her) and to make a pie.  

Find friends to forage with.  That's the secret to my happiness.  

Maybe we're not the cool kids, and I don't give the tiniest of fucks.  As I have my entire life, I just do my own damn thing.