I’m on a small farm just an hour out of brussels for until friday. So far I’ve gotten to weed and hoe and…wash dishes. but this is only day 1. And by the way, I think i did a fairly bang up job. I may have a natural affinity for hoeing.
for two days here i’m the only volunteer worker then (pft) two Canadians are supposed to get here on monday. we’re like the plague or a unwanted affection, just unnavoidable.
Until the politeness around here triples i’m camping solo…but not. The set is a yurt a hundred feet from the house so when i’m in the yurt I’m doing camping ish things like listening to music, reading, drinking beer, typing on this iphone…and playing a little classical guitar i found in the corner (happydays, thankyoujesus). and trying to get the goddamn fire to burn and not die out.
Yay camping! when I’m not in the yurt doing yurty things I’m inside trying to make myself look like a person people want to host for couch surfing (takes much time) and sometimes i talk to Kristine who’s hosting me here. So far I can tell I like her husband Dirk even though he mostly speaks flemish he talks (raves) about people a lot and throws in the occasional swear word. tis good. as far as i can surmise. They have a son who is 17. enough said?
I’m a little worried that no one is petting the cat, Boris, but me. either he’s starved for attention or a complete suck. one can never tell with felines.