We call it smoke but it’s smog and we better get used to it.
Turning.
Up early. Tough week. I let my temper get the better of me a couple times. Luckily I am only caustic with my tongue, not like before.
It would be easy to say they got what they deserved. Tourists, rich, entitled, put in their place. But it makes me sad. So it can’t be good. I used to love putting a bully in his place. Punching up has hurt my family immeasurably. I am a fool not to go along. Look how good the people who punch down do.
The garden is up. Plenty of smoke on the horizon and on the water, early morning. The spuds could be ready, who knows for sure, the grasshoppers have eaten the blossoms.
Even Willow was powerless against the grasshoppers.
The garden is doing it’s best after being ravaged by grasshoppers. The grasshoppers are still around in abundance but not eating as much as when they were small. When we have vegetables from the garden for dinner I remark my thankfulness that the grasshoppers were kind enough to leave it for us. They were ravenous bastards.
No carrots this year. Almost everything had to be replanted. Strangely they didn’t like peas, which are about 6 feet tall and covered in pods. The tomatoes, they mostly left alone. Same as the zucchini. Everything else was at their mercy.
The cannabis is coming and I’m about to trick it into thinking it’s dying so it will flower. The grasshoppers ate it as well, but it fought back on its own. The grasshoppers who indulged were last seen, wearing dark glasses, listening to jazz, riding vans, driven by a ladybug, down to SF, Haight Ashbury, to find themselves. I’m happy I could, at least, convert a few. The stoned grasshoppers remaining are degenerates, happy to listen to Led Zeppelin overflowing from the gardeners earbuds. They are hard to motivate, but great to have a conversation with once you get them going, unfortunately they still like to snack.
We will miss the carrots. I planted zucchini in many of spots in the garden that the grasshoppers destroyed. We are going to have ‘chini coming out our ears. I won’t be able to give them away. My friends will see me coming and scatter.
Before bed I thought I’d better make sure the garden gate was closed. Walked outside into a warm evening. I never walk anywhere without boots. The garden is only thirty paces from the basement door. I figured I was safe to go barefoot. Half way there I stepped on a wasp and got stung in the crotch of the big toe and the tall one next to it. Damn. That’s seven stings this year! It could be my new record.
Little Big Dog.
I remember when I was about four, one morning, I took a stick and knocked down a nest in the shed. I was stung on the nose. That night I was with my Dad picking raspberries at my Aunt Elenor’s place and got stung on the ass.
Dad thought it was hilarious I was stung on the nose and ass in the same day. He laughed telling Mom when we got home. I couldn’t see the humour in it at the time. Now I am a Dad and Grandad it is damn funny. I can’t help laughing when I reminisce.
Lisa and I were up early and heading for the bush to miss the tourists and second home owners, who are out in force.
Once we made the corner after the first bridge on the Kootenay we were free and never saw a soul, except the most important, a black bear, a murder of crows circling something dead, plenty of deer, bucks in velvet, a shiny muskrat and birds singing songs, so beautiful, that I will never understand no matter how hard I try.
We picked up a load of wood. Tomorrow I will split it. It is birch so the sooner the better. It will keep us warm. Summer is when you should think of winter.
Picked a litter of lettuce in the garden. The grasshoppers have wings but aren’t eating like they were when they were small. As far as I can tell they don’t like peas or tomatoes. Everything else has taken a shit kicking.
We sure have a good country. I may bitch at the folks running it. The country and citizens are so strong even the politicians haven’t been able to screw it up. 🙂 Aboriginal people are seeing a future where injustices are acknowledged. There is no making things right. There is no returning justice. MY small spot on this land belonged to someone who didn’t agree to sell it to me.
Our future is dependant on immigration, that’s a good thing. The ideas and hard work coming from abroad will make us strong.
Whenever I meet someone wanting to make Canada their home I think of my Grandfather coming from England in 1912 looking for a better life.
I live in this time in history when immigrants made my life easy in my youth and will help me in my old age. How lucky is that?
Most of the creeks are still high. I followed a spring, out of nowhere, a hundred yards through a grove of birch, then disappeared underground to cripes knows where.
The country is alive and beautiful. I can’t contribute like I used to. I don’t expect much. That’s how it is when you are happy.
Somehow we have to grab rocks, but instead of throwing them, we have to lie down on them and feel the warmth.
The rising sun catches the ridge in the west. Dark storm clouds above, shaded valley bottom below. Taken about 6am from the garden.
Came through a good bit of rain. It was welcome. In the mountains it was snow.
We planned a trip into the high country last Wednesday, but postponed it to this coming Wednesday. The youngsters from work were disappointed. I didn’t welcome trudging through a foot of wet snow on the mountain side. The truth is I’d end up sliding on my ass coming down trying to dig my heels in yelling whoa!! It can be fun, but I’m too damn old for such hijinks. I didn’t want to lose face so told them the scenery would be better when it cleared.
The doe deer are busy with their fawns. A few days ago I freed a fawn that got caught in fencing. Today Jack shooed one from the pool court back to its mother. It was held up under patio furniture and was starting to gather quite a crowd of guests. Jack said he had done it plenty with lambs back in England. He is a good man that Jack.
***
Some warm weather is expected. The recent rain has done its best to cool the bush. That’s more than we can ask.
Bog Orchid. Although common I have not seen this species for several years.
Lightening with plenty of rain, so not so bad. We have postponed a hiking trip with some youngsters from work, because of snow in the back country. They’ll enjoy it more with the sun shining on the blue glacier water and I will not have to slip and slide off the mountain in 12″ of wet snow. There was a time I wouldn’t have been dissuaded by weather. That day is long gone.
Quick trip into the big city. We left early and the three hours went by quick with us chatting and the traffic lite. The smoke from the forest fires wasn’t too bad.
We hit Costco. We had shopping lists for four families. It went surprisingly smooth and didn’t have to wait at check out.
I bought a couple of Lavender and Barberry bushes at about the third the price I could get them at home. Then we fuelled up with the cheapest gas in Canada. Albertans love to bitch, but they don’t know how good they have it. Not that I’d ever trade places.
Now I just have to figure out where to put those Barberry and Lavender bushes.
***
Lisa had her appointment and we stopped at a mall so she could find a dress for a summer wedding we are invited to.
Looking for the dress took longer than Costco and the appointment put together. I walked around the mall looking through windows, but not going in. I saw Louis C.K. working at Sporting Life at the South Centre Mall. He was taller than he looks on TV. But it was him, sure as hell.
Lisa found a wonderful bright pant suit and colourful top. A summer ensemble. She looks gorgeous in it. Now I’m feeling bad for her, because I am going to look shabby on her arm.
***
The way home was a steady stream of traffic with every kind of driver. I like to hang back and give the impatient plenty of room in case they have to dodge in on the two lane highway through Kootenay National Park. There was a few times I felt like closing the gap and leave them hanging out there in oncoming traffic, but that wouldn’t be good for anybody.
***
When we were home and unloaded, I checked the garden. Perhaps it was the walk stretching my legs. I had a twelve second fart that broke the quiet of the evening. Even the birds stopped chirping and were struck with awe. A few neighbours came out and looked skyward. I had been travelling in the truck all day with Lisa and it built up. I was impressed I still had it in me.
Rain today and we needed it. Work was a missed mash of issues. Most got the better of me. Lisa has a small white board where I get dressed that says, ‘Make good choices’. She knows I don’t always, but I’m getting better from my younger days where it didn’t take much for me to fly off the handle.
The birds enjoyed the rain, they chirped and sang and were grateful for the worms that came to the surface, making eating easy.
You could almost watch the grass grow. I fear a hot dry summer. We have been lucky the last couple of years. The tourists are coming, no longer slowed by Covid, and each will have a pack of matches and a few fireworks, not content with turning off the lights and watching the much more magnificent Milky Way.
Anger still bubbles in me. Deep down. Watching the destruction. The waste, pollution and noise. Nothing changes fast, I remind myself. It takes time they say. In the meantime I try to make good choices.
Jimmy knocked himself out today. He struggled with a post of angle iron in the frozen ground. Finally it broke off and hit him in the head. He hit the ground, his radio on squelch. That’s Jimmy. If he does something he makes sure everyone notices.
Of course, once he came to, he wanted to keep working. He is small of stature, but strong as an army. That’s Jimmy.
The body has been aching. I have the job of taking out 80 old mattresses and replacing with new. Some are up three flights of stairs. Most are king size. My main job, I keep reminding myself, is not getting hurt.
I am about half way there. I counted 40 in the underground.
About the only thing I have to offer an employer is my strength. Of course getting old is going to limit my worth. I don’t blame them. No big defined government pension awaits to soften the blow. That’s my own fault too!
I’ll hang in there as long as I can.
In the meantime the first beer tasted good. Give me another.
***
I grew up with the sound of dogs barking and trains going by. It has been replaced with the rev of motor boats and car alarms. That does something to you.
***
People walk by with dogs on leashes. They never bark. Not the dogs, not the people. Willow hates the leash and barks plenty. I let her. I think all the silent dogs scare her.
Palliser Pass 