Blog two.. Tour two.. October 15th – World occupy day…
Meanwhile..
Life continues down on the funny farm.. deep in the heart of Kansas.
Verne arrives.. Raven has an op and the gals do some serious farm work…
Before we came on our trip, Candace had written to us saying she was going to offer some work to a guy who had been on death row but had now been reprieved. She also said he would be living on the premises as he needed a home now because whilst he has been on parole, he kept fighting with his room-mates. She said she felt he could do some jobs around the farm and help out and she wanted to give him a chance.
I kept remembering it wrong and kept saying that it was very kind of them to offer work to a serial killer, but she corrected me patiently and said ‘No, he had just been on death row, but now was free and looking for employment.’ She asked if we would meet Verne – (as he is called) - and give her a true intuitive response as to whether he would work out and would fit in with the Ethos of the farm and it’s wonderful serene energy. Steve’s reaction as always, being so protective, said that he would never allow a serial killer… no…sorry .. death-row escapee anywhere near his beloved wife and I think he was quite worried. So we spent a long time talking about the value of giving people a chance to prove themselves, and practicing non-judgementalism. I said Verne might not have even done what he was accused of, if he was now released that mighten that be because he had been innocent all along and deserved a chance? Anyway, with Tom and Steve around I felt sure we would not be in any danger from this short-stocky-bow-legged–big-hatted-silent -Mexican.
I am always amazed at my intuitive psychic abilities, and I felt I had conjured up a very accurate mental picture of Verne.
(I am going to create a new one of those little asides which we now all write on our e-mails.. Not LOL but TIC.. tongue-in-cheek as I am sure some people might read me literally!!)
So TIC to my image of Verne..
He was supposed to come with the workers who are putting in the new fences around the property, on Monday but didn’t make it.. not a good sign and then also not again on Tuesday. Candace said if he didn’t turn up again on Wednesday then she might re-think the whole thing, as he obviously was not going to be the reliable little worker she was looking for.
Thursday morning with the boys well ensconced in Austin doing their fun boy things Verne arrived with the workers.
Being the very polite guy he is, he waited outside the yard gate while Candace came and got me, took me by the hand and said “Verne is here, come and meet him”
As I approached the gate I thought “My goodness this Mexican is even smaller than me as I cannot even see him through the gate, must be a midget”
She opened the gate and there in a cage was a magnificent specimen of Rooster, trying to strut his stuff in a little cage, not very successfully I might add.
What plumage.. oranges.. blacks and exquisite turquoise green feathers, a very cocky look in his eye topped by a wonderful red headdress.
“Like what you see?” I heard him say.. and yes, I had to reply I was very, very impressed, a magnificent specimen.
We bought him into the yard where the 7 young chicken fillies were doing their stuff, walking around gently clucking and giving hell to any tiny worm who dared to move the surface of the earth and chasing the poor crickets around. They immediately gathered into a huddle and surrounded him. Verne was very pleased at the attention and started to round them up like a herd of cattle or maybe a posse. My sense of it was that he thought he might line them up in order of attractiveness and then give them his attentions from the prettiest down to the lowliest but being a reprieved character, I felt he would not miss anyone out. Now, …..the leader of the girlie posse is Gertrude, who is my nemesis like little Paisley in North Carolina and it is her goal in life to eat my flip flops taking up the baton where Paisley left off. She is big boss lady. As I now cover my toes in work shoes, very sensibly, as I am doing a major chore in the yard of removing a stone path to pay for my keep, she shows how irked she is with me, by pecking my bum every time I bend down. We are in constant dispute, she determines to peck my bum until I go in and put back on my flip-flops so she can eat them and I keep telling her that this is not going to happen.
So Verne saunters up to her, with a “Like what you see baby?.. you want some of this don’t you” (Well, it worked so well with me he thought it would be a good modus operandi.. little did he know I am a push-over for a well turned out peacock of a male!)
Gertrude responded to his charms by flying up in the air in order to facilitate a huge boxing of his ears!!! The other ‘gals’ followed suit and in seconds the strutting peacock was running for his life. They were chasing him yes.. but only to box his ears and make sure he understood the pecking order on this farm, might not be what he expected and he needed to know that he was bottom of the ladder…
Poor Verne. Released from jail and certain death, just for being a rooster in a world that only values egg-laying hens, this was not what he had in mind. So many thrills to impart to so many ladies and not enough hours in the day to show them all his tricks and here it looked like they were not going to let him near them. Not without first giving him a bit of foreplay which to me looked distinctly painful.
Candace decided to leave them all to it and see how it went, but I had visions of my stocky little Mexican, he of the wonderful ornate plumage hat ending up on his back, not from delightful carnal experiences but from sheer exhaustion of having his head re-arranged by 7 feisty ladies who wanted to be wooed in their own time.
However, when we came to finally take a look, with a flashlight, to see if they had accepted him into their fold, he was up on the roost with all 7 ladies, right in the middle, very squashed and very cosy. His last words to me were, “I will be alright as long as I stay up here and they all stay up here with me, as there is absolutely no room for them to take off airborne and box my ears.. I might stay here forever!”
Now… if he is to stay off death row, we just have to convince him not to crow. Tom is not enamoured of a rooster crowing… so every time he let rip to try to convince the ladies that if they let him have his way, he would sing them love songs all day.. Candace told him.. “Verne please don’t do that.. Tom will send you back to death row” Death row might be just putting him out to try to impress the coyotes and we all know who will win that confrontation.
I’m writing this at 5 a.m. as I can’t sleep and the sun is just coming up, so far no song from Verne. Perhaps he is one clever Rooster who realises Nirvana when he sees it and maybe he will keep stumm until Tom can be won over by his lovely personality and charisma as Candace and I have been..
Now he just has to win over the ladies.
Little Raven had to go in for an operation, which just showed me how incredibly worrying and time consuming it is to take care of all these wonderful animals. She is such a stoic being, quite an old gal now and Candace dropped her off early morning. We worried about her all day, but the vet rang and said she did well and could be picked up early evening.
Another huge part of the responsibility of living with animals is vets bills. I think they probably compare equally to the vets in England so that a small injection will set you back about £100.00. (I presume it must be colloidal gold they are injecting).. so to have an operation, get your teeth cleaned and take some drugs cost the same as a small run around car in England or even in some very rural areas probably the same as a small holding and cottage.
The Vet was really nice though and did not look like a crook. Candace was so relieved that Raven had pulled through and in fact Raven looked feisty and was trying to jump around which was very difficult with her Elizabethan collar on which restricted her view to about 1” past her nose. Candace gave the Vet a huge hug to say thankyou and he started to regale us with animal stories about Rabies and Airports and quarantines procedures.
I was able to top that with my Zsa Zsa Gabor story.
When I worked at Playboy one of the Inspectors came into gaming to get away from his stressful job working in customs at Heathrow airport. (This was over 40 years ago when people sailed through customs, but in England we were very strict on animal importation because of a fear of Rabies)
Zsa Zsa wafted through, complete with entourage, high heels and a huge fur coat even though it was summer.
Tony, being very polite said..
“Good day Miss Gabor, welcome to England .. do you have anything to declare?”
Miss Gabor.. “Only that I am extremely beautiful dear boy, and haf already had 3 very rich husbands but I like the look of you and if you play your cards right, darlink, we could maybe tink of making you number 4”
Tony.. “Thank you Miss Gabor, but are you sure you have nothing to declare?”
(Quick change of pace here from Miss Gabor being playful kittenish, “you can have me if you play your cards right” , to shrieking harridan!)
Miss Gabor..”Vat is ronk viv you, stupid boy, did I not say I did not?!”
Tony.. “Miss Gabor I think you have a small dog under your fur coat?”
Miss Gabor.. “Of course, stupid, stupid boy, ver else vould my beautiful little bunnykins liff, but under my coat, dat is ver all tiny little doggies off mine liff”
Tony.. “Well Miss Gabor, I am afraid we have very strict quarantine rules here and you will not be allowed to bring your dog through like that and he will have to go into quarantine”
Miss Gabor.. Shrieking now.. “ Are you crazy, you stupid, stupid, stupid boy, Vat are you sayink, touch my dog and I kill you”
With that to emphasis how serious she meant what she said she took a huge swing with her very heavy handbag and whacked Tony right round the head and knocked him out!!
I think they arrested her for a while for that little escapade and I like to think that the Paris Hiltons who believe they set trends by carrying around these tiny little pooches have no idea that it has all been done before with such better panache and style.
You cannot beat the incredible egos and gall of those old American movie stars, although I have to say I don’t actually ever remember seeing her in any movie!
On our way to pick up Raven, Candace took me on a short ride downtown Augusta. One of those wonderful American towns which still tries valiantly to hang on to it’s individuality and charm and not succumb to the pestilence which is the American Motorway line-up of the fast food eateries – all identical in nature and offerings and the mind numbing boring Motels…
There was a cute little blacksmiths shop about 6 foot square and a tiny little original house now kept as a museum and the most wonderful art deco film house complete with the glass booth ticket office at the front. It was showing the original 30’s film of the Phantom of the Opera last night, what a treat.
Steve meanwhile was back in the fabulous Austin Movie house where we had enjoyed such a fantastic time with Tom and Candace when we were last here, with the recliner seats, blankets and waiter service to your seat and table. We were sent little clips of their activities during the day and we saw that they had taken the segway mobile units for a jaunt around downtown Austin. Steve did not however, look at all comfortable. I thought it was because he is so comfortable driving any kind of vehicle, but one you stand on like a scooter did not seem to please him. Then I thought it might be because he did not like wearing a helmet, although he doesn’t have to worry about it messing up his hair, but no, it was because he felt the clip of him driving downtown on his segway, made him look chubby and now he is fixated on trying to lose weight. Which could be quite difficult with Tom determined to show him the very best restaurants. He said that after lunch he and Tom were going to a lap-dancing club and I said I hoped they had a nice time.. He then added that the attraction was that these were Japanese Sumo wrestler lap dancers who had to be lifted down onto your lap in a harness as the weight might break the chair you sat on, so then I had to believe that this visit might have been one of Steve’s imaginary journeys! I am not sure which of us has the more creative flair..
On the night of the ceremony in the circle, Tom told us he was going to put the alarm on in the house when we went to bed, just in case we thought we might to go and take a look outside if we got up in the night, it would trigger it off.
I immediately thought .. ”Ah, I expect the ET’s might be coming for a visit and Tom intuitively knows that.” I said nothing.
In the morning Steve asked us all if we remembered anything happening in the night and we didn’t although we all realised we had slept particularly deeply.
He then said he was woken up by a “woman” who told him to come into the lounge to talk.. At some point Tom came out and said “Is everything O.K.?” and then Candace came out behind him and said “Come away Tom, this is not for you” and led him back into the bedroom. We begged Steve to tell us all she told him, but he said he has to write it all down as that way all the information can pour through uninterrupted. Then he went off to Austin, - the little b… - without telling us anything!. So I am looking forward to his return on Sunday where hopefully he will fill us in on everything she shared with him.
Marcia who had conducted the ceremony on Tuesday was all in white, but one of the other people here said they saw/sensed a ‘woman all in white’ in the circle who was obviously not Marcia and I wondered if the ‘woman’ who turned up to speak with Steve could have been her, as I did not sense the usual ET presence. My feeling was that she is someone linked here to the Farm and the wonderful energy of the circle. I really hope he can remember all she shared with him.
Candace’s dad is going to lend us his other car tomorrow. A wonderful old 1960 red Chrysler convertible. Us gals will be putting on our Thelma and Louise personas and doing some cruising. Yesterday at the traffic lights a Sherriff’s car waved us out, I thought he was being courteous to us .. but then I realised he just wanted to feast his eyes on the fabulous old Cadillac we were in, as we pulled out. What a car…
Tom had sent me a book to read before I got here called the ‘Worst Hard Times’ about the tragedies of the Dust bowl era when terrible farming practices of the first-time settlers ruined this land. Prairie grasses which have been here for thousands of years feeding the buffalo and keeping the Native Americans very happy, were systematically ploughed under and wheat, wheat and more wheat grown. In a matter of a few years millions and millions of acres and the same numbers of buffalo were gone, destroyed. This created a lack of topsoil holding foliage and so the dust storms were created which are unfathomable to our minds to try to even begin to contemplate. They blinded people and were huge, black ferocious winds, thousands of feet high and wide and with particles so small that hundreds of particles could fit onto a full stop and so consequently they got into absolutely everything. There was no way to keep it out. The Homesteaders would come out to find the landscape completely changed, buildings buried and livestock killed. On top of all this there was no rain, as has been the case here in Kansas this year and the temperature in one test with a thermometer inserted into the sand read a staggering 153 degrees. Above 100 degrees daily was the norm.
This went on for years and they held on until the banks kicked them off their lands for not paying taxes. Yea right, that makes sense doesn’t it just like today, when people have lost their jobs and their businesses and can’t make payments, Banks and mortgage companies keep claiming taxes and interest on house mortgages until they are so broke they have to be put out of their houses. (Nothing changes does it!)
In one of the bleakest of the years for these homesteaders one family had managed to finally grow a few meager crops and their fruit trees had some little sign of a crop and then just when they should have harvested, a plague of crickets descended and ate the lot! It was a heartbreaking read.
When Candace and I drove around yesterday she showed me the different kinds of fields and grasses and we came across a field of Corn, which had not survived the extreme drought they have had here. It was very sobering to see this blackened and blasted crop, which never came to fruition. What a lot of hard work for no reward.. Very sobering and makes me realise we take so much for granted without thinking about what hard work someone carries out to supply our food on our tables.
Today we have been doing some farm chores and it is very physical which I like, but really hard work. Candace has a photo shoot to do and I am going to be the dog/cat/horse/donkey/hen/Verne sitter to keep those coyotes and skunks at bay and to make sure Raven continues her great recovery.
Much love
Annie
The pictures are of Verne arriving
The ladies in pursuit
Verne doing the two – step with huge panache and
The farm hand doing the jobs…
No comments:
Post a Comment