I was trying to remember if I had been to Saskatchewan ever in my life. I had lived in Motherfucking, Alberta, near enough the Saskatchewan frontier for me to have visited the Green Rider province when I was a boy. I could not remember so I phoned my mom. "How are you Beer, my little, little boy?" she asked after saying hello. Mom had been drinking, so had I. "Saskatchewan! Those redneck cocksuckers! I wish I could tell you you have never set foot in Saskatchewan," she spat, "but that would be a lie. The summer before we left Alberta, for good, the summer after I had Kitty, we all went camping to a lake where we met the Hoods on the Saskatoon Berry Day long weekend. I forget the name of the lake. It might have been Shit Hole Lake. Or maybe it was just near Shit Hole Lake. That was a long, long time ago Beer."
The Hoods were old family drinking buddies. They were not fond of mixer. That was,"For God Damn Americans," I heard old man Hood say over and over once the party had passed from beer to better things.
"You and your brother had a grand time eating bugs and snagging suckers with the Hood boys on the lakeshore and of course we all got eaten alive by the mosquitoes," mom continued as she looked deep into her wine glass. We were on the phone but I knew she was doing that. If you are ever looking for your past, have a look in a glass of wine, it is in there somewhere. "We weighed Kitty when we got home and she had lost a pound during the long weekend we were in Saskatchewan. The motherfucking mosquitoes had sucked a pound of blood out of my baby. She was pale as your father and I were after that weekend from all the rye we drank. Other than that, none of you got hurt for a change so it was a pretty uneventful weekend. Just what you'd expect in Saskatchewan."