8 October 2006

Cutting My Grass For My Country

I cannot believe I am cutting my lawn in October. I have never done so before and I started cutting it in March which I had never had to do either. I would much rather plant the lawn with hemp and cut it down just once a year. The silver lining of the cloud is that I have not had to cut the lawn since before the August long weekend. It is still plenty warm enough for me work up a good beer sweat.

Before I began my chores the Hammer and I took a walk beneath hawks hunting for rodents from the blue sky above fresh cut hay fields. The farmers were spreading honey on the fields, hoping to get one more harvest for their dairy cows' winter feed before winter hits us between the eyes like a Sammy Salo slapshot. I counted five herons in the same field standing still as the Taliban, waiting for the precise best moment to nail a vole to the ground with their sword of a beak, killing it like the latest Canadian soldier to die fighting for whatever the motherfucking government tells us the soldiers are dying and being maimed for in Afghanistan.

The Hammer playfully chased after a few groups of people on their bicycles. She has finally figured out how to use her body language so she does not scare little kids off the path and into the brambles any more. Now the kids say, "Nice doggie," and shit like that as she gazes lovingly up at them, her drool attaching itself to the kids' bicycling shoes like baby shit to a blanket.

This afternoon Devrudan will be gunning for her second win in a row at a racetrack in motherfucking Alberta. After winning at 22-1 a couple weeks back her trainer has entered her against horses sharp enough she should go to post somewhere around 10-1. If she wins I will be eating at Montana's tonight. If not, I will still have my beer.

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