After doing my laps in the neighbourhood pool the Hammer and I went for a walk along one of the many dykes meant to prevent the surrounding farmland from flooding. The wind was up but the temperature mild as a street corner preacher's Sunday morning hangover.
Along the way we saw ducks, white swans and herons and hawks on the hunt. We never did get out of earshot of the freeway and the Golden Arches remained in view quite some distance away. The two of us had not taken this winding walk through some of the world's most productive farmland before. I was pleased to see it is not as dotted with as much garbage as many of the other places we visit.
The Hammer likes to pick up coffee cups and carry them a few steps before dropping them like the thoughtless litterbugs who first tossed them from car windows. They are everywhere and are becoming more numerous. Allow me to add my voice to the call for deposits on disposable coffee cups. Such a deposit scheme would be a boon to the bottle pickers of the world and would make my town and yours look a little less like the fucking dump they look like now.
On our way from the dyke I took a sidetrip up a small mountainside to check out the new houses being built up there. When the clouds or the smog are not draped over them they have an amazing view of the farmland below and the bigger mountains in the distance. I prefer the location of my house where me and the dog can go pick up groceries or beer on foot instead of having to start up a car.
Most people in town who recognize me know me as the guy who walks his Newfoundland Dog to get his groceries and his beer. "There's that asshole with his dog again. He must have an impaired charge or maybe even killed someone when he was drinking to be walking around the place all the time like that."
2 comments:
just checked out your blog and enjoyed the ride...will visit again soon. Beer drinking takes on a whole new meaning...I must get those hockey sticks looked out of the garden shed and go for a beer run.
Thank you for being the first person from the old country to drop by and say hello.
One of these days I will have to flesh out my recollections of drinking beer at a square dance in England. I've never been to your fine country though I've some Scot in me and a great uncle was part of one of the top three Canadian curling rinks in my fat country's young history.
Post a Comment