Sonja moved the furniture out of the living room so we could spiff up the room before we have people over to our place for Christmas, or as I like to call it: Shitface. Everybody likes their place to be spiff at Christmas. After the room was fixed up we rearranged the furniture a little and decided not to put everything back in the room that had been there before. It is like living in a spacious new house. I like it.
One of the cool things about living out here where your creamy white milk comes from is the frequent windstorms we get. There is one blowing gustily outside right now. My dog and I were out in the wind this morning. We found several very big dead salmon slowly rotting in a park stream we do not visit often. I figured it was cold enough to keep the junkies out of the park. I was right, not one junky. Local school kids and their teacher helpers have been chucking young salmon into the stream's headwaters for many years. It is good to know of such success in a world of failure.
We saw two people. First one was a good looking gal walking her microscopic dog. The Hammer did not like the microscopic dog sniffing at her big smelly ass. The second person was a boy. He stopped to pet the dog. Dogs are good for boys. Then he said, "Did you see the dead salmon? There's like loads of them and they're dead and they're just lying there and it's gross!"
I was surprised a boy from around here could put that many words together without saying fuck, cunt, cocksucker, motherfucker, tits, shit or piss.
I am just sitting here; beer going; hockey on; fire crackling; dinner on the stove. I have a week to go before the mill shuts up for a month, perhaps longer. The whole fucking coast is going to be down by the sounds of it. If you know a logger or a sawmill worker like me buy him a beer or smoke him up this winter, he could sure use it.