The Church Of A Swift Kick To The Knackers

I will keep this one short. Do better than me. I have isolated and treated this latest illness as I would COVID-19, but I have not tested. Because of my lack of follow-up and follow-through, I can honestly say that I have never tested positive for the virus. Yup. Bulletproof. (Cough.) Do better than me. I went to the funeral without a mask. Many people went unmasked. Many of us became sick. For years I have preached "stay safe". It looks like this dumbass failed to follow his advice. Sorry. Have a great day.

I love this picture, from the late summer of 2022. It calms me. Jeeze.. It's late 2023. 2024 is no longer creeping up. It is a freight train runnin' towards us. No brakes on a downward slope. With a.. Sask election. USA election. Getting too close to a Canadian election.  (That a little fascist twerp has a great chance of winning.) A year and a half until my old age pension. (Unless a little fascist twerp destroys it like his mentor was trying to do.) Getting older. Getting slower. The hurts last longer. I won't even mention the hurts that aren't physical. I love this picture. It calms me. It is much needed.

 I was napping so I turned my phone off. It made no difference. Two minutes after the phone would have went nutso had it been on the guy showed up to pump out the septic tank. "Hey Bud, you're a fkin hour early." I would never say anything cross to the septic tank guy. Not only is he one of the top five important service people you will ever need to deal with, he is also a great guy with a happy attitude that I most certainly wouldn't have if I pumped poop all day. He also is as big as a brick house and twice as sturdy. "Hey Bud, great to see you early!" Don't piss off the septic tank guy. It won't end up pretty.  One other point, in a question: Why does Alberta (and the N.W.T) not test the Emergency Alert System, with the rest of us? My guess. "We don't need Trudeau to tell us when we are about to be annihilated. Freedumb ! Freedumb! " I can think of no greater reason.

Two words never said A lifetime of regret I knew many veterans Toothless WW1  He schooled me on Bully Beef With a thousand-mile stare WW2 Flyers and marchers They all drank and laughed Never talked about the war Even if you asked They would buy me beer I always thanked them for the pint Never for their sacrifice They never asked Except Old Jack He would demand my freedom be paid for with drinks. Pull a nickel-sized piece of metal out of a ring box. "Tear your fuckin' arm off. This is what they took out of me." I acknowledged  "Another one for Jack." They say he used to lie on the tracks Waiting for the train to take away his pain His last years were spent in a veterans home Among comrades who understood I hope he found the understanding And the peace that he bought for the rest of us I never said thank you. Two simple fuckin' words And wearing a poppy For a day Does not seem enough. Thank you. Please Even if you have no memory of them Please never forget the...

 True story.  I usually stop for gas at Costco, if I am in Saskatoon and the area. Five cents a liter? Sure thing.   What I will never do is make a special trip there just for fuel. Or, more importantly, never do the' jerry can dance' which is what some jerk was doing at the pumps two days ago.    I pulled up to the short line. Two vehicles back from the pumps. A car ahead, and a pickup with a box cover, that soon moved into position.  "Great. I'm up shortly."   The driver of the truck stepped out, walked to and opened the box, and proceeded to remove eight jerry cans and set them on the ground.  I watched him fill two cans, then replace the pump and take his receipt. Then he entered his information for the second time and filled two more cans, replaced the pump and took his receipt again. He repeated this process two more times until all the cans were full.  By this time the car ahead, which had went ahead of "Jerry The Jerk" and bac...

But first, let's post this beauty and tag her #Memories 

Sunday morning, 9:32. I would love to tell you that I have finished my roofing job. Unfortunately, I cannot lie. I have about an hour of minor stuff on "the (roof) deck" and a couple of hours of clean-up. The good news. I nailed on the last shingle, and the final ridge cap, hours (2) before the rain began. For once my timing was perfect. Fog this morning. I plan on staying on the couch, except to eat, drink, or deal with the consequences of eating and drinking. Maybe a shower later. I will see if I can get away with my hygienic neglect. Why am I on the couch? Because my body is telling me that a roof is no place for a man my age.  Last Saturday, as I was finishing up, I made a strange move-slide with my right foot and felt something pull in my heel. The pain only lasted as long as a couple of strong curse words, and I finished up my day.  The next morning I awoke to the problem of not being able to put weight on my foot. I hobbled through my morning routine, and eventually, t...