A practical, no-nonsense woman, she strides about doing what needs to be done. No need to bother with small talk. She's a farmer. She slaughters chickens. It's part of the work of raising food. Her long hair is pulled back in a braid. Her masculine-looking hands have dirty fingernails.
What I do -- music, dance, druidry, nature walks -- that's frivolity. I'm trying to escape the urban lifestyle. But what I do, it's just playing. I go out for a coffee, I write a blog. I rent a kayak. Meanwhile, a farmer is shoveling the manure out of the horse's stall. These are not horses for equestrians to ride, these are the horses that pull the plow.
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