The Passenger Seat

Independence has always been something I have held onto with determination.  As you know from previous posts, I enjoy being on my own and have often referred to myself as a 'loner'.  However, I lost some of my independence when I moved to Northumberland, perhaps a little sacrifice I made for the wonderful new life I began.  That independence was taken from me by my late father-in-law who continuously asked what I was doing, where I was going, why, how, when.  It drove me nuts at times, having an old man follow me round the house, coming into my bedroom which was then also my computer corner; I could have been stark bollock naked and he would just come in without a knock.  Luckily I never was, but I was often in the middle of something important like course work or writing a short story and he would stand over me, trying to read what I typed.

Fortunately, those days are long gone, he moved off the farm in January 2007 and passed on in May of that year.  His spirit still roams the house, peering over my shoulder, checking up on me, but I can accept that by just telling him to leave.  After his passing I was able to claw back some of the independence that I had lost during those past six years.  I would get in the car and just go out somewhere, into town, a drive to a friend's, Amy's school.  Anywhere, just to be able to tell myself that I was independent and not having to live my life by someone else's rules, in someone else's house, and in someone else's shadow.

And now I feel as if I've lost it again.  Not being able to drive is starting to get to me.  I keep looking at my car and wishing I could just get behind the wheel, start the engine, and find myself somewhere else.  With lambing coming up in the next 4 or 5 weeks, I know that the Farmer will be seldom available to run me here and there; his work will be needed only on the farm, midwife to 240 ewes.  Of course I'll be helping by doing the night watch, albeit only until 1am, or so, but we discussed how we will have to make sure we have plenty of supplies in for the dogs, the lambs' milk, sheep lick, and of course for ourselves.  During those busy weeks of lambing I have always had the freedom to nip into town for whatever supplies we need.  Now I'll have to rely on someone taking me other than the Farmer, and I'll feel forever in their debt.  I know you might think why should I feel in their debt, but it's just the way I am.  That's the independence of being independent.