Me Taking a Break from My Chores
Some of you who read this Blog on a regular basis may recognize my rubber boots that, when new, have aided my feet in covering hundreds of miles of tundra in the far, far north, to recently, wading through stinky, smelly chicken crap, at times almost up to my knees, my faded jeans (and if you could see the rear, my skinny bare ass would be in view) and my work shirt plumb wore out from renovating a baby-barn, chicken coop, animal barn, digging ditches and just plain a hundred other individual chores that need doing here at Golden Unicorn Farm. I'm more than a little ashamed of my appearance (almost skinny enough to blow away on a light puff of wind or a goat's fart), that's the reason I'm hiding my face under my wife's (Sarah's) garden hat. A person would think, if you notice the sign behind my poor old worn out body that with hundreds of eggs and home made baking, I would be the size of the Goodyear blimp or an anchor on a luxury liner, but since moving to this farm, I've literally worked my once buns of steel into tiny ball-bearings. (Now don't go feeling sorry for me, I'm awfully good at doing that all by my little old self.)
Although at times it's cold enough to make me shiver, the earth is frozen, we've received a little snow and the only time I feel any warmth is when I fart in my pants, to my way of thinking, winter has yet to arrive. A good friend of mine, Glenn McLean, an old timer in these parts, must be expecting an over abundance of those winter butterflies (flakes of snow) because a short while ago, he gave me a snow blower. Not sure if it's a premonition of a snow-filled winter but regardless, it was really good of him to do that because when winter surely arrives, I will have a lot snow to remove; making paths to the wood shed, studio, garage, road and clearing a space for two vehicles with a shovel can be somewhat arduous and the way I look in that photograph at the top of Blog, not sure if my emaciated body is capable of handling that sort of work on a continual basis. Also, I have a long path to clear down to the lower 40 acres, will have to pack some bales of hay down there for our illusive unicorns. I'm not sure how many are in the herd because I usually see only one or two at a time. I expect there are quite a few because there is a lot of unicorn poop at the base of our apple tree. I suppose you're wondering how I can differentiate horse poop from unicorn poop; it's the colour and the odor! Unicorn poop, and I have to say I'm more than a little amazed when I come across it; looks like mounds of miniature rainbows sparkling in the grass and smells like freshly baked ginger bread - now how magical is that?
I woke up to the snow falling heavily this morning. Although it was still dark outside when I went to feed and water the animals and chickens, I was overcome with a presence of peacefulness, the closeness of winter ending all but the basics of my farm chores. There's a sense of cleanliness about the escarpment being covered with a carpet of snow, as if all our black secrets and sins are somehow being, I'd like to say forgiven, but more like just shoved under the carpet; out of sight; out of mind. A person might think that I would be happy this morning, knowing that soon, I can just paint and write or do whatever else my wee imaginative mind can create but nothing could be further from the truth. The tar sands in Alberta have had me wondering for quite a long time as to its size and destruction and last night when I watched a documentary called Petropolis, although there was very little conversation, the aerial view impact of what I now deem as the "Asshole of the World" (have no idea where the heart is or if one even exists) I could not believe what I was seeing; it was beyond what I had ever comprehended.
I was born while WWII was in full swing and later on when I had a mind of my own, I was proud to be a Canadian. However, after watching this documentary, I was pissed off with myself that I had voted for Harper (Canada's prime minister) not because I thought he was the best man for the job but because the other parties had joined together in what I deemed to split Canada apart, just so they could get into power. I can't say I felt any better when my wife reminded me that in actual fact, I hadn't voted for Harper or the other two opposing parties; I had voted for the Green Party. After watching Petropolis, I have to say, whatever feelings I had at being proud to be a Canadian within me, ceased to exist; I was so dismayed with myself, I not only felt ashamed to be a Canadian but ashamed to even be a part of the human race. What is occurring at the Alberta tar sands is now being promoted here in New Brunswick as well. I feel deeply that what has been allowed to happen in Alberta is immoral and downright evil, without any reasoning of good for mankind or for that matter this entire planet; the absurdity is beyond my comprehension and imagination and believe me when I say, I have an imaginative mind. I have lost all respect for the people who allowed and participated in the abominable and absurd fracking of the Alberta tar sands and also for the dim-witted subservients who have flocked there in order to fill their jeans with the almighty fucking dollar. I hate discussing this subject because the majority of people, including I suspect my own family, consider me the bearer of doom and gloom, whereas I like to think of myself as reality and finality - cheers, eh!
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