Evenings

eve·ning
The period of time when the afternoon and night are even.
The period of decreasing daylight between afternoon and night.
The period between sunset or the evening meal and bedtime: a quiet evening at home.
A later period or time: in the evening of one's life.


Filling up the horses' water barrel is one of my favourite jobs. It's the last chore I do before I go in the house for the evening. I put the tap on just a trickle so it takes about 20 minutes to fill. Then I run me off a little handful of chaw and stretch out on the back step of the barn and appreciate the view. There is the occasional deer or fox in the back fields; and ducks, geese or herons on the river. It seems there is always some animal moving around at this time of day. I also never get sick of looking at how straight my fence line is (I allow myself a little pretentiousness in this area because it is pretty damn straight). By this time my head is getting all woozy from the tabacca and the water is spilling over, so I call it a day.

Last Call for Buddy and Jasmine

Back in the spring of 2001 Buddy and Jasmine went on hiatus up in my hayloft. They were on R&R from their Free Beer duties for an undetermined period of time. Every year I go up in the hayloft to do some cleaning and take the time to have a little chat with them. We'd reminisce about the good old days and they'd always inquire about Showgirl(TM). I'd tell them that she was semi-retired and only made rare appearances on St. Patrick's day or other special events. They also joke about how Mathiew liked to stare at my bare ass when I had to pull down my pants during my frequent guitar mistakes while on stage; I guess they noticed a lot while perched up on those speakers. Buddy also told me that he never really liked Mathiew because of all those times he raped Jasmine and Showgirl while living at the Big House(TM). They both confided that I was like a father to them as I had been the one to rescue them from a dumpster at the Cavendish Mall back in '94. So it was with a certain amount of sadness when I lied to them this past weekend and tricked them into their own undoing. I really needed to clean my hayloft and decided they'd have to go. So I told them about how our mailbox was getting smashed a lot lately by some punk-ass teenagers. Of course being the man he is Buddy immediately grabbed his trademark red hard hat and volunteered to help out; Jasmine thought she was looking a little pale from being inside for five years so she said she was game for anything that would get her into the sunlight. I told them that I needed them to sit out by the road and watch for any suspicious characters near the mailbox. They were so happy to be outside and trusted me so completely that they didn't even notice when I put the garbage cans out beside them. I had a lump in my throat when Buddy gave me the thumbs up as he settled in for his overnight shift.
"Twelve hours and this will all be over," I said to myself. "The garbage truck is coming and it is never late."
I woke up the next morning and was surprised to see that they were both still diligently doing their jobs. Several cars stopped by and checked out the strange duo at the road and one asshole even groped Jasmine a little; I could see Buddy's snarl all they way from the house.
Well they must have knew something wasn't right when they saw the garbage truck headed their way because Jasmine pulled her old trick and flagged down some dude in a pick-up and he swooped in and grabbed them both just as the garbage truck was approaching. So they're not really dummies after all. Even Roy and Rachael the replica 'skinjobs' in Bladerunner could not escape their mortal destiny as Buddy and Jasmine did.

Emma Almost 14 Months

A special request was made by a very important cousin-in-law and faithful blog reader to keep updating my site with some pictures of Emma. So here she is. She will be 14 months old on July 6th. She's talking quite a bit now and running around all over the place. She tries to put her shoes on and takes me and Annie by the hand in the morning and leads us outside so she can go see the chickens and horses as this has become quite the daily routine.


Emma put the glasses on herself. She always wants to see how she looks in the mirror with my hat or glasses on .

She likes to pretend to cook.

Cryptozoology

Ian and I went to pick up my 4 wheeler at Lorne's yesterday. We were shooting the shit for a bit and it looked as though we'd shoot it some more, but then the phone rang and Lorne went to take the call. So we said our "toodley doo's" and headed back home. We crossed route 202 headed North on Mte Giroux. Then approximately 150 feet in front of us we saw a black bear walk across the road. It crossed west to east just south of the English River. It didn't appear to be in a hurry and it crossed maybe 50 feet away from someone's driveway. We stopped the car and tried to catch site of it in the bush, but didn't have any luck. A very cool experience. Mark saw a bear cross the 202 (not too far off from this crossing) about 15 years ago. Also Annie and her sister saw one about 10 years ago crossing almost exactly in the same spot that Mark saw his. Wildlife travel on paths that they have been using for thousands of years-sort of like cow paths in a pasture. That's the reason why deer or other animals are often road killed in the same spots. And to answer the burning question: NO. Ian and I were not drunk. We each had one road soda that lasted us the ride there and back.
I thought it was a really neat experience seeing the bear. I've lived in the valley almost all my life and I seriously doubt I will ever see a bear again. It's cool to think they are out there with the deer and coyotes making their living off the land. I also began to reflect upon the serendipitous nature of the sighting. I figured it was the phone call that cut our visit short that lined up our path with the bear. But then I figured it could have been the piss I took just before leaving the house or really any event in my life could have lead to that moment.

A New Look For Spring

Annie thought the dogs were looking a little rough in the fur, so she took the clippers to 'em. When Shadow got his hair cut I was on the lawn mower and when I saw the pile of fur that had been cut off of him, I seriously thought that I'd accidentally mowed a bail of fiberglass insulation all over the lawn. Between Shadow's extreme cut and Alley's ass trim, the fur completely filled a large garbage can. They looked absolutely ridiculous and many visitors are overcome with the giggles when they see them. The dogs are real chicken wimp babies now, due to the lack of fur, and they are easily bothered by mosquitoes, the cold and the sun.


Annie and I have been talking about getting some kind of Border Collie or Australian Shepherd once Alley and Shadow are done. However, I'd be more interested in one of these Trunk monkeys for the house. With all the recent home invasions I'd feel very secure to have a fleet of these monkeys trained and ready for action.