Friday, December 03, 2004
A weekend celebration
Well, the weekend is upon us again and that means there will be time to catch up on my straw-counting duties. I have many bails of straw in the field and not a clue how many pieces are in each bail. I could pass up this chore but we got a few new additions to our chicken coop. Unfortunately one of them is a cobra and I don’t feel safe getting near it.
Living in a farm-like atmosphere is a lot like living on a farm. All that is missing is the hum of a tractor and maybe a few cows and perhaps a daughter named Skylight who is constantly keeping an eye out for traveling salesmen. But salesmen don’t travel as much as they used to and farmer’s daughters are rarely Swedish any longer, so the whole thing kind of balances in the long run.
Most of the weekend, however, will be spent avoiding any particular work and talking myself out of believing it is not too late to run away with the circus. That won’t be too hard, as a circus never passes through our small town and I cannot swallow fire. But it is December and that means brisk, cold air, bitter winds and evening chills, all of which are weather-related. This is good for the soul and in the black of a December night one can be sure that when the weekend wanes, Monday is ready to return and start the process of weekdays again, as it did the week before and the week before that. And we can all be glad we are not Nick Nolte and that no matter how bad the weather becomes next week, it was still worse to be in Nagasaki when we dropped the A-bomb.
So have a good weekend, my human comrades.
Living in a farm-like atmosphere is a lot like living on a farm. All that is missing is the hum of a tractor and maybe a few cows and perhaps a daughter named Skylight who is constantly keeping an eye out for traveling salesmen. But salesmen don’t travel as much as they used to and farmer’s daughters are rarely Swedish any longer, so the whole thing kind of balances in the long run.
Most of the weekend, however, will be spent avoiding any particular work and talking myself out of believing it is not too late to run away with the circus. That won’t be too hard, as a circus never passes through our small town and I cannot swallow fire. But it is December and that means brisk, cold air, bitter winds and evening chills, all of which are weather-related. This is good for the soul and in the black of a December night one can be sure that when the weekend wanes, Monday is ready to return and start the process of weekdays again, as it did the week before and the week before that. And we can all be glad we are not Nick Nolte and that no matter how bad the weather becomes next week, it was still worse to be in Nagasaki when we dropped the A-bomb.
So have a good weekend, my human comrades.
