DIARY
Boy, is my face red, but I just followed orders
by Robert LaFrance
As a married man
of almost a third of a century of suffering, I now take the path of least
resistance, so it only made sense when I followed the D.O.T. (they can call it
DTI if they want) pickup truck out into the woods.
As many people
know, the government has recently paved Highway 105 above Kilburn and while
they were doing it, there were several flagpersons on duty. When I arrived at their signs I would stop until
all the vehicles followed by a D.O.T. pickup truck came from the other
direction. Then the leading pickup, with the sign ‘Follow Me’ hanging on its
tailgate, would turn around and lead us onward.
All I did was
follow the directions on that truck which, after a while, left the road and
went out onto a woods road. How was I supposed to know that that driver was
taking his lunch hour and wanted to do a little fishing in a nearby stream? The
sign said ‘Follow Me’ and I just obeyed the order.
Speaking of
D.O.T., not long ago, in the early spring, I saw a government sign that warned
drivers that snowmobiles might be crossing the road at that point. I well
remember that decades ago, when our kids were small, D.O.T. wouldn’t put up
signs warning drivers along our rural road that children could go out onto that
road. “It would give your kids a false sense of security,” said the chap who
came by to check. We had two daughters at the time, the younger walking but
just under one year old, and I wondered how and where a 14-month-old could have
acquired ‘a false sense of security’ before she was even fully toilet trained.
I was not too
pleased when my wife recently called our son a reptile. As he was leaving to go
play soccer, she said: “See you later, alligator!”
What’s next? Is
my older daughter an aardvark? Is my younger daughter a zebra mussel? I think
people should be more careful about what they call other people. Except it’s
okay to call politicians names; they expect it and would be sad if we didn’t
call them names. On the other hand, when I drive on the beautiful Highway 105
recently installed from Kilburn to lower Perth, I purr like a cat and cannot
think of a bad thing to say about politicians. Keep up the good work,
*************************
I want me to get
one a them there pickup trucks with the dual wheels on the back.
They look as if they would ride like a
Rolls Royce. There’s nothing wrong with our Toyota Corolla, but on my bucket
list (as they say) is ownership of a truly expensive vehicle, one that propels
me along like a magic carpet.
There are only
two problems buying one of those heavy duty pickup trucks, if that’s what
they’re called. They cost an arm and a leg plus several other body parts, and
they carry about as much freight as my little nephew’s toy mouse.
On the subject of summer itself, don’t
you find that there are a lot of things happening over which we have no
control? (When I was growing up in Tilley, I would have said: ‘There’s a lot of
things we don’t got no control over’. I’ve become a horse’s aspect.)
I am referring to
the rituals of summer that we all take part in, on one side or the other of a
counter - takeouts, yard sales, gardening and fertilizing lawns, not to mention
the many celebrations like Canada Day, Homecoming 2015 this weekend, and
fishing.
It’s as if we –
most of us – have received our orders. The first week in May and maybe once a
week or a fortnight all summer we go get some french fries just because they’re
there. Poutine is a favourite of those who like grease and even more grease. My
Uncle Cedric told me one day that when he craves poutine he just goes to the
pantry and drinks a cup and a half of canola oil.
Yard sales speak
for themselves. It’s a wonderful chance to trade junk with one’s neighbour. I
sold a cassette player at a 1999 yard sale and bought it back at a 2011 yard
sale. Bright side: I made a dime on the deal.
Gardening is a great summer ritual, but
I’m finding it less and less joyful every year. Can I be getting lazy? After I
typed that question Flug, reading over my shoulder, burped and said he didn’t
know what form of the verb ‘getting’ was, but past tense seemed more fitting.
So the rituals of summer come along
every year and we follow them every year, but I’ll tell you one thing…never
mind, I won’t bother trying a summer resolution after the messes I made of my
New Years promises.
-end-
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