Between the Borderlines (Open)
Apr 21, 2012 0:00:50 GMT -5
Post by pianoplayer on Apr 21, 2012 0:00:50 GMT -5
There are some days when I somewhat enjoy the prospect of waking up to a new day, whether it be rain or shine.
Today is not one of those days unfortunately.
Mostly it's because of the fact that after working all day trying to pull the dead crops out of the neighbours field, the Peacekeepers showed up telling us that school has been cancelled until further notice. Which means that school won't be starting up until we somehow get back on the Capitol's tight food schedule so we have enough to fill our annual quota. But it's also because I dislike the prospect of re-turning the soil, re-eliminating all the dead plants that will be better put to use as fertilizer, and re-planting all of the crops.
You see, this is the double edged sword of working in orchards. They are usually not too high maintenance, as long as you watch for snakes or tracker jacker nests. But that means that you have this extra time that you are expected to spend working in the fields.
So as my parents just begin to stir from their deep slumber, I slip out of the house to check the orchards and get it over with now. Surrounded the tall, crooked trees is peaceful, quiet, almost relaxing. It's a warm day today; I barely need the long pants and shirt with the sun, and it is just early morning. I cut over to the edge of the orchard where between the orchards and fields are the little sections of forest that grow on the borderlines between the two areas.
Normally I would simply walk the perimeter so I get a fair view of most of the orchard and then head back, but after only a few minutes of walking the line I spot something shining faintly through the bushes. I shouldn't go in; what if I get caught? I ask myself tentatively. I would likely be whipped, possibly get my tongue cut off, perhaps worse. But it could be something to trade, something useful, something that might mean a slightly more substantial meal tonight, the other part of me says. I pause to see if anyone is near, and then I hesitantly walk closer to the woods.
Today is not one of those days unfortunately.
Mostly it's because of the fact that after working all day trying to pull the dead crops out of the neighbours field, the Peacekeepers showed up telling us that school has been cancelled until further notice. Which means that school won't be starting up until we somehow get back on the Capitol's tight food schedule so we have enough to fill our annual quota. But it's also because I dislike the prospect of re-turning the soil, re-eliminating all the dead plants that will be better put to use as fertilizer, and re-planting all of the crops.
You see, this is the double edged sword of working in orchards. They are usually not too high maintenance, as long as you watch for snakes or tracker jacker nests. But that means that you have this extra time that you are expected to spend working in the fields.
So as my parents just begin to stir from their deep slumber, I slip out of the house to check the orchards and get it over with now. Surrounded the tall, crooked trees is peaceful, quiet, almost relaxing. It's a warm day today; I barely need the long pants and shirt with the sun, and it is just early morning. I cut over to the edge of the orchard where between the orchards and fields are the little sections of forest that grow on the borderlines between the two areas.
Normally I would simply walk the perimeter so I get a fair view of most of the orchard and then head back, but after only a few minutes of walking the line I spot something shining faintly through the bushes. I shouldn't go in; what if I get caught? I ask myself tentatively. I would likely be whipped, possibly get my tongue cut off, perhaps worse. But it could be something to trade, something useful, something that might mean a slightly more substantial meal tonight, the other part of me says. I pause to see if anyone is near, and then I hesitantly walk closer to the woods.
