Fencepost of Homestead Past

OLD WOODEN POSTS
ACCUSTOMED, CEREMONIOUS

December 22, 2009 & Christmas 2010
For me, decking the halls includes decking out this lone vintage fencepost from days of yore that stands so loyally, all by itself along our south property line, more than a century old (ca 1900)!

Not only do I honor Christmas in my heart every year ~ as suggested by Charles Dickens ~ but I honor the venerable fencepost for the sake of all the previous homesteaders: those who set the post in the ground so long ago, those who may have met to chat across the fence, and those whose spirits linger still:

Now by the post-and-rail fences, where the old stones thrown there, picked from the fields, have accumulated,

Wild-flowers and vines and weeds come up through the stones, and partly cover them, beyond these I pass . . .

Alone I had thought—yet soon a silent troop gathers around me,

Some walk by my side, and some behind, and some embrace my arms or neck,

They, the spirits of friends, dead or alive, thicker they come, a great crowd, and I in the middle . . .

. . . there I wander with them . . .

Walt Whitman (1819 - 1892)
from Calamus: "There I Wander in Spring"

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Christmas 2011 ~ Plaid Flannel
photo: January 19, 2012

December 27, 2012 ~ Candy Stripes

Christmas 2013 ~ Yellow Crystal
photo: January 2, 2014 ~ Snow Was General

Christmas 2014 ~ Red & Silver
photo: January 7, 2015 ~ Staying Alive

Christmas 2016 ~ Cream & Maroon
photo: January 11, 2017

2020 ~ Recycled Tablecloth
Thanks Steven!

2020 Update: First Snowfall!
December 16, 2020

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In closing, I share this sad poem for a sad Christmas,
at the close of a long, confusing year:

The Fence

There where the dim past and future mingle
their nebulous hopes and aspirations
there I lie.

There where truth and untruth struggle
in endless and bloody combat
there I lie.
There where time moves forwards and backwards
with not one moment's pause for sighing
there I lie.

There where the body ages relentlessly
and only the feeble mind can wander back
I lie in open-souled amazement.

There where all the opposites arrive
to plague the inner senses, but do not fuse.
I hold my head; and then contrive
to stop the constant motion;
my head goes round and round,
but I have not been drinking;
I feel the buoyant waves; I stagger.

It seems the world has changed her gament.
but it is I who have not crossed the fence.

There where the need for good
and "the doing good" conflict,
there I lie.

Lenrie Peters (1932 – 2009)

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Christmas 2015
photo: January 25, 2016
Salvaged Fence Posts from a Nearby Dumpster

Next Fortnightly Post
Monday, December 28th

Between now and then, read
THE QUOTIDIAN KIT  ~ Festive Fencepost
my shorter, almost daily blog posts
www.dailykitticarriker.blogspot.com

Looking for a good book? Try
KITTI'S LIST
my running list of recent reading
www.kittislist.blogspot.com