Montana, Again?:
Yes, it's true. I've landed in Montana seeking my 4th residency since 1971. I've pretty much abandoned my Tamarack Blog worked on from the Farm in Minnesota. The old posts are still there under my name, but I'm writing from a new view of things and thought I should give my blogged-writing a new look and name. Obviously I didn't let go of "Tamarack" very much given the title of this blog, but since I have a view of larch and Blodgett Canyon in the Bitterroot Mountains from my new perch in Hamilton I figured, "What the hell?" try a new twist on the same ol' same ol'.
I'll be focusing my writing on happenings in my life in Montana again and look too, for some stories about my experiences in France last August. My research and word warbling about my dad and mom will likely get aired out here as well. After all I must continue to explore their life and times, especially my sense of dad's life, (aka: "Uncle Sonny") started at Blue Moon Farm in Minnesota. [DAD, it's not my fault. Mom is making me do it and yes, she is editing everything I write about you. She calls it, 'getting even'. What does she mean by that dad?]
The tone of this blog will probably change as I certainly have. I've decided that the rest of my life is my shot at practicing the 'writer's life' dreamed about and farted around with for most of my--"Hey, I think I see light in there"--years. [Who just said that? Come out, come out wherever you are!] Don't get your expectations up too high as I need some followers to keep me honest. By that I mean don't drop me just yet. Well, at least don't go fB-ing everyone why you dumped me (again). Think of me as a 65 year old 'wanna be' with nothing better to do with his residual energy than write and reveal my hopelessly romantic interior, helplessly disorganized writing style (i.e., lack of understanding of the English language), and my senseless hope for our deteriorating habitat on this blue-green-mostly brown planet.
Yes, I have to write about Mother Earth. Maybe not the "News" of it, but certainly I can cast an observation or two out there given I've been marching to the drumming of ruffed grouse, the "garooo-ing" of sandhill cranes, the green eye-shine of black-footed ferrets and of late, the adventures of my mostly aquatic son Zach's meanderings in the flowing waters of the Bitterroot Watershed (especially the Lolo Fork of the Bitterroot River).
Thus, and thank God it's lastly, this particular boggy blog is a pilot to see if the new set up works. If you plan to tag along maybe I can buy you a stiff drink sometime for your time and pending confusion. I believe Thomas Merton wrote a book once, "No Man Is An Island". But, "AhhHaa", I have now traveled "over the pond". And according to the Air France magazine map I found and browsed for 9,486 hours going over and back, there is an Island named Crete. Thus,
NoManIsAnIslandButCreteIs,
(I know, I know. The isolation will be good for me. Nonetheless, send a CARE package now and then, please.)
Eternally grateful and humbly submitted;
Ron Crete
www.bluemoofarm.blogspot.com/
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