26 October 2006

No Productivity

It was a fine day to pass on going to work. I set my alarm for ten minutes before my shift was scheduled to start and staggered like Yellowbeer'd to the phone to give the mill the good news. The world could do without my productivity today.

Sonja and I had homemade apple from the backyard tree muffins for breakfast. I swallowed mine with cheap Army and Navy coffee whitened with evaporated milk; Sonja had hers with strong black tea. After I watched Sonja roll out of the drive I loaded the patient Hammer into the car and headed to a long path that runs by a creek not far from home.

There were several cars parked at the head of the path. It seems like nobody works any more. People just grow dope and go for long walks here and there so their neighbours think they are holding down a job some place.

The suspected dope growing fiends turned out to be a pack of Steepleton old dears out for the exercize that will help them out-live their beer drinking old men. They had nice things to say about the Hammer as she stuck her nose into their smelly crotches and asses. Some of them eyed the beer I was carrying questioningly but figured it was better than a crack pipe or a needle. Used to be I would be drawing on a finger sized spliff on such a walk. Now I am Mr. Motherfucking Clean.

Farmers were readying a new field for blueberries nearby. The air smelled of fresh turned dirt. The farmers gabbed to one another in their faraway language as they passed a bottle of rye around.

The Hammer spooked dozens of Canadian geese eating corn in another field. Five tough geese held their ground. The Hammer wisely let them be.

A coyote I first thought was a rock slept in another field near his forest home. The field will soon fill with magic mushrooms. He glanced up at us, licked his balls and stuck his head back in his ass to doze away as much of the day as he could.

An owl hoo'd from a mossy barn.

A hawk pecked the brains out of a mouse on a fence post.

I thought a splash from the creek was a beaver ducking for cover but a closer look revealed several salmon spawning in the shallow water.

I reached into my jacket for another beer, cracked it, took a slug and thought this corner of the world can sure take a fucking beating and keep swinging back.

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