Saturday, 24 March 2007

"AH DUNNO!" - 24th March

The first day of spring! Clocks go forward tonight! and it's bleak and freezing cold outside.

Thank goodness there's still a good stock of logs in the burrow woodshed and the Snug is warm and cosy. Welcome, everyone. Enjoy the weekend.

7 comments:

Emmett said...

ANTICANT, Good afternoon (here!). It's positively foggy 40-degrees weather; and, with it there comes up out of the World a lovely smell of wet earth & a /shout/ of bird-song from the bare hedges and tree-tops; and, from amid the depths of the odd fir-tree's indigo boughs. The first lilies are getting up, and the anemones. 'Tis Spring -- right down to the somewhat-affected 'Daylight Savings Time ' swindle, ours having come in a fortnight since.

AS To farming, no, I don't suppose I shall necessarily sow many acres of industrial maize at all, even though 'tis as much as five dollars the bushel, on futures. The price has been driven up by the 'bio-fuels' false promise.... Whereas I expect my reluctance to dive into the faeces with all of my good neighbours is because, well Hell! I don't actually think that these Americanos of mine particularly /deserve/ any
'alternative' fuel-resources. What they /should/ have happen to themselves is that they have to stay to home and not go gadding about. P'raps some of them should even then take up -- reading!

ACTUALLY, I was in farming on a large scale in the 1980s, got run out by the government & taxes -- and, straightaway, won a lottery. So, I turned around and bought a half-section & farm half of that, with horses and /old/ tractors; and, a ricketty 1950s 'John Deere' (small!) combine-harvester. This year, again, I shall sow forty acres of 'Indian corn', to preserve the seed-stock. Sooner or later, these God-damned fools around me /are/ going to have some sort of blow-out, when the genetically mucked-up stuff goes amok, sprouts tentacles and begins eating -- farmers! Otherwise, with me, it's alfalfa and hay, oats, wheat and/or barley, and /no/ soy-beans.

THESE Last /cannot/ be in fact made fit for human consumption, except as tofu or naturally-fermented sauce. Otherwise, they are fine -- for paint and plastics. As a feed, the mash makes for a peculiarly watery and oozy, unappetising, pork; and, flavourless beef. Mainly, soy has enjoyed a vogue because of people's simple-minded school-room faith in medical 'science', which extolls these actually-harmful hydrogenated oils as a 'safe' alternative to animal-fat. You can /see/ these waddling pre-diabetic German-Americans (of all ages!) rolling in & out of the 'buffets' all over the place, here -- faith in that sort of science, as is all 'normalcy', is its own punishment, I reckon. The psychologically poor televisionised bastards. The wretched hydrogenation in fact inhibits zinc-uptake, this /cannot/ be compensated with clever supplemental tablets & so there is a general net loss in public acuity; people are credulous of contemporary 'authority' precisely as a result of the universal bad diet as well as conditioning. Formerly, 'twas religion; and, now, the 'technology' buncombe. People will look anywhere except within, to try to find that 'salvation', above all from having to be alone with their /selves/.

"IT'S A Shithouse!" as my late Uncle Emmett Jacobson (d 1980 /aetat/ 60) used to say, whenever we'd wind some discussion or other, of current events....

Farmer Wook

lavenderblue said...

Dear, dear Farmer Wook, like Anticant and ZoZo you are a favourite bedtime treat

lavenderblue said...

Oh sod it !
I forgot about the clocks............

ben trovato said...

the days are long gone since anticant was anyone's favourite bedtime treat. But he remembers them well.....

Emmett said...

lavenderblue, kind of you to say so -- but, as /per/ the indefatigueable 'ben trovato' /supra/, I'm sure that 'jammy old bastards' and 'tedious wind-bags' should be more, well, inapposite, hmm? I, too, have loads of memories, some affectionate, not a few /in/fectionate -- but, to be truthful, I shouldn't care over-much to be 'young' again, not for all the cocaine in Colombia (which I quite thought, in 1983, I'd had the much of!). My goodness, all the /sturm und drang/ my youngsters, all seven, are now withstanding. Them poor kids! Being young, to-day, is to be contemned to go down a badly-kept roadway that others have thoroughly littered with trash and cast-off odd bits, for fifty years or more, torn clothing, ripped french letters, the lot. Quite makes me sleepy to think about it & so now Grandpa is going to toddle out onto the East porch for another morning cup of coffee....

Wook, CC [/retd/...and, I mean it!]

zola said...

I suspect that there is little wrong about remaining childlike in a world full of childish politicians.

The childlike may see the clothes and comment may they not.

The childish just compete.

BTW G'day me hearties
Any Smiths crisps ( with a blue bag of salt) in that underground SNUG of yours?

zola said...

Antipant : The cocks go forwards and backwards during Springtime.
I know.
Nesting time even for the larks in Finland. So early too.