the blog of boredom. yours not mine

well, this particular blog may be loaded with boredom. i will forgive the reader his disinterest.

first the hunt. no. first i suppose i'll start with my sisters wedding.

we went to california for my sisters wedding. i walked her down the isle in my blues. (my dress blues, not mood wise) it was a pretty and charming wedding. a man insulted me, and didn't know it. he saw me loading lila into the car, her in her dress, and me in my uniform. lila was in, and he said to me "congratulations!" i don 't marry my sister retard.
that's a joke. it really happened. but of course, how could a person be insulted from good intention?
actually, it happens a lot. the path to hell is paved with good intentions. i guess.
we stayed in a little hotel on the boarder of mexico. it was a charming little place.
Liz gave a toast, as she was lila's maid of honor. it want' a bad toast. we went to coronado beach. it had a lot of sea weed. it was fun, and i spent the entire day trying to body surf. apparently i don't get bored because of something so simple as repetition.
my cousin colter lives out there, we spent some time with him and his wife. it was fun. he had surf boards, so we tried to surf. as soon as he was out there, and i was out there. i lost him. i knew not where he went. so i tried alone. then let lila, she did it wonderfully. then others. Gid and Josh came eventually.... josh being my cousin. i wish they would've come earlier. i always feel bad like i'm leaving someone out.
Colter and his wife also gave us tickets to the padres v phillies game. it was good. they were good seats. the padre's won. i rather like watching baseball when it's not on tv. sometimes during baseball season, sarah and i will stop at a field around wellsville, and watch the kids play. only if we have nothing else really to do anyway.

when we came back, i was anxious to hunt. it's elk season now if you're an archer. i hiked for two straight days. all over creation, and saw nothing. nothing elk wise anyway. i saw a lot of deer, and a moose with a baby.

last year i was chased by a moose. it turns out that may have inspired a phobia within me. when i saw this moose (both times i saw it) my heart came nearly out of my mouth. i knocked an arrow, and backed away from it. it ran the other way. but when i was backing away, i stumbled on a bedded down deer doe. it jumped up and ran. i decided i wanted to leave. it's a good thing too, by the time i got to the parking lot i was terrified, and it was dark. actually, i was terrified because it was dark long before i got to the parking lot, and i couldn't find my light. that's not all, i think maybe a mountain lion had his eyes on me, because something followed me all the way back to the parking lot. all the way i would hear rustling, so i would stop. it would stop. i would see even where it was rustling, but i saw no animal. i would stand there for ten minutes deciding whether or not to shoot an arrow into the bush. then i would be scared i was wasting light, and walk quickly. i went on the wrong path, and had to back track. it followed. when i got to the parking lot, i waited for 45 minutes for my ride. in the dark. dogs howled, and whatever followed me back lost interest as i watched "home movies" episodes on my zune. they made me more scared because i couldn't hear if something was closing in on me or not. but i watched thinking to myself that if somthing was going to kill me, or sneak up on me. it would be sarah's fault for not meeting me at dark in the parking lot.
of course, what if she crashed on the way up here, and is dead? i'll wait till at least morning!
at last she came.
three days later we found elk. it was the weekend. we were hiking a familiar old trail, when a moo cow, black, bolted out of a bush. the same bush a moose began chasing me from. i looked quite the fool when i ran twenty feet before i realized i wasn't dying.

for three or four years, i have had a half built shed (shoddily done anyway) in my back yard. everyone knows about this yes, no?
well, my mom's friend choco sold us 8 roosters for about three dollars a piece.
instead of just killing all of them, we killed two, and put the rest into this shed, which we made into a ghetto chicken coop. today they got out. sarah put them back in, and one got out.
this is sad.
she tied it's feet so he wouldn't get out until i came home, and could mend the shed. chickens, or more specifically, roosters, will peck at something which is vulnerable like that. when i came out to see it it had been bloodied. i untied it's feet, and mended the offending wall of wire. as it got up, the other chickens pecked at it unmercifully. one specifically. the alpha. the one that crows in the morning. the biggest one there is, pecked at it until it was back in it's corner, less vulnerable. it got back up, and was again attacked. it thrust its self against the chicken wire, trying desperately to escape. all the while being pecked at, and attacked. eventually, it lost its will, and just lay down. the bigger rooster pecked at it a little more. it groaned it's relief when the pecking stopped. this time it stayed down. it wouldn't get up no matter how much i poked at it.
so i took it out of the cage. i suppose nothing deserves what that rooster went through. i felt it an especial shame that the best i could do for it was eat it. so i prepared it to be feathered. and lay it's body on the steps.
i went inside with the bloody knife, and sarah knew what i'd done. i recounted the tail to her, and we both thought it proper, and just, that we eat the offender too. and so we're down to four live roosters.
does, or should justice like this extend to roosters? should one feel pity on them? the real shame is that one was harvested for no reason other than it was a victim.

now, don't get me wrong. we'll eat all of them. i'm just saying, the specific circumstance was sad. sarah felt very exeedingly bad. i suppose she'll never tie another chicken down. next time i guess i'll just have to chase it around the yard.

monday is founders day.
labor day i guess to most of you. but for wellsville, it's founders day.
my dad used to organize the sham battle. year after year we would hear the curses of his frustration, and build a small house to burn in the field of wellsville elementary. we would show up early, all of us freezing in the morning, and tired, awakened by the cannon. freezing because we didn't want to bring a coat, which we would later have to take off and hold. the year my dad died i wandered down that way, to the sham battle, it's only a block away now. it opened on a speaker. it's all different now. like everything is now. it's educational, we used to just know the history, if one wanted to know about a tradition, he took the time to learn about it. now they replay it on a loud speaker. the "indians" arent' drunk anymore, and neither are the settlers. fighting is at an all time low. i dont' even think an ambulance came last year. but that year it was on a loud speaker, before it began they dedicated it to my dad. i like that.

also, i've come to realize a pet peeve of mine. while reading a book i discovered it.

when someone dies, and the other people say "he would've wanted it that way" or "he would like that" or someone say's something like "lets invite so and so" (that last example was from "bridge to terribithia" ok, so she died. that's ok. and some of the things that happen after that are ok too. but.... why. why did he have to tell that teacher next time they'll inviter her? she's dead. he doesn't know what that means? dead guy, don't invite her anywhere!