The Farm Journal

I was really into saints in junior high. Perhaps I was replacing Wonder woman for Saint Francis & Joan of Arc. They were more tangible characters. Saints had an actual place in history, an actual set of teeth.

Now that I think about this, it all makes perfect sense. Saints were the supernatural answer to the fact that superheros aren't real. Before I got into saints I was into drawing stars on my underpants so I would be like Wonderwoman. I also used to wrap tinfoil around my wrists and run around the yard and the dry wash river beds of northern Arizona.
My parents had it easy for awhile, cuz' all she ever wanted was new rope for a magic lasso.

As the years passed, I realized that Wonderwoman didn't really exist. This happened after I got my first pair of Underoo's and was dismayed to find that the Wonderwoman underpants and tanktop had a mortal flaw. They looked like Wonderwoman gear on the front, but were stark white on the back.

After this I found solace in books and the general natural world. I had heard about Saint Francis who spoke to animals and renounced materialism. He roamed around the countryside speaking blue heron and whitetail deer language. I could really relate to him.
I would spend hours in the fields trying to convince our neighbors cows that I was a cow too. Sometimes, when the moment came up I would pull down my pants and pee near the herd thinking that they would be tricked into thinking I was animal by the fact that I wasn't afraid of peeing around herds of cows.

That didn't work either. Then came Joan of Arc.