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Kids on the FarmKids on the Farm We lived across the road
This is not a great photo of a painting. In the background the tree looks more like a mushroom cloud than is evident here.  I did a sort of marquee thing around it.  Why? I thought it needed a frame or something.  I don't know. It was one of my first painings.

 We lived in a south western Ontario farming community.  It had a gas station, an antique dealer and an all year Christmas store, oh and a post office. It was beautiful to look at but lonely and I had headaches from all my allergies. (I am city kid even though I love the idea of rural life). I took lots of pictures of my two kids. We went for walks. I wept in agony. The realities of my marriage and the life of rigourous self denial were grinding me down. I had a miscarriage alone and told no one, a risky thing to do I now know.  I was so thin you could easily differentiate my bones.

I was so envious of the Mennonite women when I would see them in their loud bousterous gackle shopping in town at the fabric store (bolts of small print drab material) or selling their wares from tables at the farmers market. I longed for friends and companionship.

It didn't last long however. The landlord sold the house and we had to move into town.  HOOORAY!!!

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riotheclown

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