next to the toffee tree

I think I should update.

I have been writing, I’m writing a sort of me-moire or novel. The current manuscript flows rather freely between fiction and non-fiction, but all major events thus far are based on memories that I tend to regard as true.

I have wondered if I should take an excerpt from the freewriting that I have done so far and post…I don’t think I will. I think I will keep it under-wraps for the time being, but maybe one day.

What I can promise you is that I will try and keep working on separate projects so that my blog does not degrade into an inert puddle of old posts. And if it does, you can look forward to the school year when I am enrolled in a poetry class, so if poetry is your cup o’ tea — stay tuned round September.

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I quit my job at Boston Pizza, which is good because I was really getting tired of all the cat calls coming from the corner booth. Well, to be honest I was tired of a lot of things there and in the end I think that it was a verry good decsion — my mother and some of my other friends say that its good for my health both physically and psychologically. I am inclined to agree.

I work as a landscaper now, mostly shoveling dirt and shoveling gravel and shoveling concrete; then hauling dirt and hauling gravel and hauling concrete. My unofficial job title is “The Mule”. I like my new job.

Its greatest advantage is simple, it gives me an opportunity to shut my brain off. Sure, I still contemplate epistemological questions, such as the limits of skepticism…and other thoughts yet wander their way through the overhanging jungles of my brain. But overall cerebral activity can be become quite relaxed at work: move dirt here…I like that best. 

Last week I quite my job. Last weekend I went to the mountains. I cut my hand in the mountains; this week sealed the small flesh wound with wet cement.

(Anyone Spot AK down by the Water in this Pic — That’s Classic Cairns Photography)

P.S. Did I mention that I got to go to the mountains with some of the bestest friends a man could ever ask for? And we laughed? As Harry would say: “I often wonder if that’s all we are really here for, I mean really here for.”