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another weekend babysitting the cat seemed like a dreary proposition... especially considering my definition of excitement was going to be more road-clearing... and woodcutting... and stacking, in godforsaken cold. with the road to hell continuing to be paved with good intentions, that was my goal on Saturday... albeit with a later start than was necessary. lo, and behold... no sooner had i zipped into the overalls, up drove SlickWillie. high on his big auction windfall. determined to get me the same way. since my chainsaw doesn't have a breathalyzer, i decided to play it safe.. and reflag the property lines. all of the old tape had faded, weeds and weather obscuring those that were left, making it impossible to tell where it ended an the neighbor's started. low probability of dangerous happenings... much better scenario. so it went, until twilight... tracing the nearly invisible back line, that was defined by an old barbed-wire fence. a fifty year old barbed-wire fence. obliterated, in places... covered by fallen debris in others... masked by old barbed vines anywhere else in the ups-and-downs of the mountain. sweat through shirt-sweater-vest-overalls. by the time darkness turned me back, his truck returned... inviting me to dinner with him and the Contessa, at their house. here comes trouble. ingesting intoxicants 'til five in the morning. babbling. rambling. glad to find the couch, and not risk driving back home in the ice. and then... i woke up. mother of all hangovers. the coffee-bloody mary-scrambled eggs briefly saved my scrambled brains, enough to get me to the car, through town, and back to the hungry reproach of the SpeckledBeast. i forced myself to go after the newspapers, dump the garbage, and start on the laundry... planning to fall like a redwood onto the futon. one of those same shade of grey days, with slating rain, so conducive to napping. oh, no... the Beast wouldn't have that, with her newly discovered talent of playing fetch (obsessed with the tossing and retrieval of knotted-together plastic bags). maybe that kept me together. the rest of the day/evening, including when Yoko returned, was spent drifting in-and-out of chores/consciousness/playoff games, until i could be awake no more. even now, if i shake my head too hard, my eyes float like that faceted prophecy-thing in the magic eight ball. oh, yeah... and now, back at work... the Snot Monster has laid waste to my sinuses. payback is most definitely... a bitch on wheels. yep, you play... you pay. |
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