I like to imagine myself as a Scottish turnip farmer on some northern croft. probably illiterate and I make it be a very old, wise 29 through a combination of dumb luck, charm and the low cunning men of my countenance often have. my spouse died of some sickness a decade ago and my children were taken by bailiffs to work in southern mills.
neighbors ask my opinion because I always have one, but rarely take my advice or keep my council.
I go for walks with a three legged dog, to look out over the north sea to let my mind quiet.
le badass malnourished Norse turnip farmer
I like to imagine myself as a Scottish turnip farmer on some northern croft. probably illiterate and I make it be a very old, wise 29 through a combination of dumb luck, charm and the low cunning men of my countenance often have. my spouse died of some sickness a decade ago and my children were taken by bailiffs to work in southern mills.
neighbors ask my opinion because I always have one, but rarely take my advice or keep my council.
I go for walks with a three legged dog, to look out over the north sea to let my mind quiet.
it's bleak, but not Amazon warehouse bleak.