Imaginary Lines

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An argument can be made that we are almost entirely the product of our environment. Our social class, our education, our geographic location- all of these things combine to create what the French call 'habitus'. I've always loved this word, for which I know of no adequate equivalent in English. Essentially, someone's habitus is the combination of all of their mannerisms, their speech, their beliefs, even their style, and it is a direct result of their environment. 

It goes a bit far to assign habitus to a dog. 

That being said, isn't it true that we create our canine companions? Our behavior directly affects theirs. One could even say it effects theirs. Truman is as much a product of his environment as any human- he just doesn't have as many traits to display.

Truman isn't allowed in the garden. It's outside our fence line. He has a history of running away. From the day we put the plants in the garden, he's been told over and over he's not allowed out that gate.

But he certainly toes his imaginary line.

So much has changed in the past six months- positive changes, but still change. I'm still processing everything, which makes it challenging to put the words down in a coherent fashion. My priorities have changed, which means the blog will have to change too. More gardening. More home improvement. Fewer posts per week. But I can't wait to show you what I've been doing.

Cheers, y'all. (I'm a freshly minted Georgian, after all!)