A wonderful Christmas with most of our children around. We missed Maddy and Chad.
Lot’s of food, of course, and presents.
Cooper and Scarlett couldn’t believe their luck and must have figured they’d been good for the entire year. Food and presents kept coming.
We missed out last year. Considering everything that went on with the pandemic, we were determined not to be apart again.
If there is a lesson to be had, it’s how to stay together in a world that we are told is crumbling.
Everything that comes over our table has truth and some fabrication. I still stick my nose out at night to test the temperature and see if the snow is falling.
It’s cold and I like it. Frozen boots with warm socks. Ice hanging off the river’s edge. Eyelashes thick with frost. Breath freezing into shapes like a Genie coming out of a lamp. Snow, swift, kickable under step. The wood splitting easy at 20°.
It’s dark by five. It’s slow as a motherfucker. Except for the sirens that are out clearing the roads. If they have the beacon light on its just snow.
Plenty of both coming our way. People like me worry about the woodpile and meat in the freezer. I’m not a modern man following the higher-ups flying private jets into Glasgow, talking about reducing carbon, for all I know the carbon they want to reduce could be me. That 1%, who our own Prime Minister is a member of, has to be watched, not for some conspiracy or evil doings they could be conjuring, but for how clueless they are.
Businesspeople, tourists (including politicians and environmentalists, the rich kind as if there were any others) or the new Santa Claus delivering Amazon packages!
It’s tough to believe in anything I hear during lunch or on the phone. Venus appeared on the ridge tonight after a few days of cloud. A waxing crescent moon to the left and above. I had to think about it, but they were right on time and in position.
People say times are going to get tough. No more fuel. I’m going to miss my old Ford, that gas guzzling pig. I’ll narrow my circle. I’ll miss the ridges. I’ll pull the siding from the side of my house, burning it at a pace that matches my march into old age.
My granddaughter Scarlett loves the garden. She eats peas raw, same as beans and onions – yes onions, she calls them chives.
Today she took to finding worms. She took them from one spot in the garden and buried them in another spot.
She reminded me of another little girl from a time long ago that seems short now.
The picture of Kelsie was taken on a medium format film camera, I had to scan the b/w negative, which took me ages. The picture of Scarlett was taken on my phone.
Times are changing, but the important things stay the same.
Lisa and I decided to have coffee on the backside of Swansea. It was up an old steep road we haven’t travelled in some time. Before long we were on our perch, Willow chasing her nose, the clouds lifting and descending, depending on the direction.
Fall is here, colours are deep from the rain. We walked the ridge. Without rain we could have seen Baldy Mountain.
The mushrooms have popped up and gone inky. Solomons Seal has turned rouge in the cooling air.
Both Lisa and I commented that it is such a relief the fall season is upon us. We are both looking forward to the slowness and quiet that accompanies winter.
There is two gay guys at work. They don’t trust me, because I’m an old motherfucker. I try to strike up conversation, but they won’t have it. I want to ask them if they like the mountains and rivers. I’m one of the ones they have had to watch out for.
They have plenty of tattoos, I wonder how they will weather, or if they’ve thought about it.
They obviously like the sun, awesome haircuts, I’ve never seen such tanned heads.
They are young and I’m up there. I’ve got nothing to teach. The rivers and bush is long gone and I’m too old for learning.
Rain, slush, sleet and snow, even a brief hail storm thrown in for good measure. I picked a great time to take a week off. I’m not complaining, I can get along with all kinds of weather. I appreciate the nasty stuff keeps the tourists away.
Willow and I got muddy on the slick gumbo walking the banks of the Kootenay. We were chasing trout and char, dipping out of the timber onto the smooth rock where the river slows goes deep and blue.
The clouds moved over a little tonight and let an almost full moon shine beside a brilliant star called Mars. With luck it will start to clear up and I can get some photos of Mars while it is close. To think that is supposed to be our next destination as we try to leap frog into the stars.
I’m content and thankful letting the stars come to me. The Palliser River still has plenty of fish holes Willow and I haven’t discovered.
I smoke marijuana every chance I get. – Allen Ginsberg
Part of being Canadian is listening to American politics. It dominates most of TV channels and internet news. It also headlines much of Canadian news sources. CBC News, for instance, often opens with what Donald Trump has been up to. It has been said, Canadians know more about American politics than our own Canadian government and it’s goings on.
Our Prime Minister, Justin Trudeau, has done his fair share of stupid things in recent years including being caught red handed in scandal; sexual, legal and political. He even dressed in blackface with a banana down his pants. However, he has skated through it all unscathed. Of course, it helps when the leader of the free world, Donald Trump, is stealing all the headlines with his own shenanigans. It’s like having a bad brother. Just when you think you are in trouble with Mom he has done something worse and let you off the hook.
If you follow American news you know Trump’s nemesis Nancy Pelosi was caught on security footage getting her hair done in a closed salon and. . . wait for it. . . the 80 year old Speaker of the House of Representatives, didn’t have a mask. Furthermore the owner of the Salon, not the person doing her hair, was outraged that she is closed while a politician, seemingly skipped protocol to have her hair styled.
Okay, I know what you are thinking, how can this be news!
***
But it gets better.
Pelosi released a statement saying, she was set up. Caught red-handed getting her hair done, using her influence to have her hair washed, cut and styled without a mask. I know, I know these are serious allegations.
A set up that must have had America’s greatest evil Republican Party minds working overtime, night and day to pull off.
Now here is the punch line ( if you didn’t think it could get any funnier).
Donald Trump, as he is known to do, tweeted:
“Nancy Pelosi says she got ‘set up’ by a beauty Parlour owner. Maybe the Beauty Parlour owner should be running the House of Representatives instead of Crazy Nancy?”
Okay, all I can say is Holy Fuckin’ Shit! The whole thing is beyond funny. All the writers from Saturday Night Live, Late Night With David Letterman and Conan O’Brien couldn’t come up with anything funnier!
And it’s all coming from old people, Trump, Pelosi, Biden, Schiff, Sanders. Cripes, it’s like the Golden Girls meet the Muppets. And not the good muppets like Kermit and Grover, but those old grumpy men in the balcony.
People should consider Trump isn’t serious about his position, he enjoys driving people crazy. When he ran he probably didn’t even want to get in. Now President he is making a joke of it, getting back at all the people that laughed at him over the years. After all he has been a joke his entire life.
If he was a Canadian politician, Trump would have ran as a Rhinoceros Party candidate, promising to tear down the Rocky Mountains so Albertans could enjoy the West Coast sunsets.
I can’t imagine Trump getting back in for a second term, even going up against ‘Sleepy Slow Biden’, (Trump’s nickname for Mr. Biden not mine).
Once Trump is out I hope he writes a book saying he was never serious, it was all a joke and America had to be reminded to laugh at themselves.
This may seem flippant, but I don’t mean it that way. America under Trump has killed fewer poor people overseas in the name of justice, oil or weapons of mass destruction (opps sorry about that. . . bad intel.) than his predecessors.
In a perfect world, perhaps, history will look back on Trump as a comic satirist in the same vein as Sacha Baron Cohen or Mark Twain.
All I know is I can’t take it all too seriously, and when it shows up on CBC it doesn’t necessarily mean it’s news.
Like Allen Ginsberg asked a long time ago:
America this is quite serious. America this is the impression I get from looking in the television set. America is this correct?
This could be our hot spell, the grass is dying, turning yellow along with some of the trees. It doesn’t take long.
Despite everything affecting us humans the natural world seems to be getting along fine. It has enjoyed a respite, although slight, from our usual rape and pillage, jets flying tourists pretending to be explorers to the four corners, mining and burning. The sky is bluer to have those jokers grounded. With luck they will notice what’s around their own corner and start to love it.
The lesson is the world will absorb us if we let our hubris get the better of us.
It feels good to wonder around with Lisa on a summer night. Everything going on in the sky, planets moving, the Milky Way, the Tail of Scorpius just above the mountains, comets and satellites.
The mosquitoes were ferocious. Willow riled up some deer. Elk lined the highway. Lisa and I both looked for eyes in the ditch far ahead. We can’t see the way we used to, so go slow now.
There was a time I used to dive off docks and rocks in the pitch black with faith there would be water below me. In summer nights the water is warmer than air. I can still see you wade in. Lisa made her own bikinis. There was fish down there that swirled around us.
