Flare Sci-Fi Forums: This man has been from here to there and back without passing the points inbetween.

This is topic This man has been from here to there and back without passing the points inbetween. in forum Officers' Lounge at Flare Sci-Fi Forums.

To visit this topic, use this URL:
https://flare.solareclipse.net/ultimatebb.php/topic/10/1346.html

Posted by Sol System (Member # 30) on :

or..."Where have you gone?"
or..."Now I'm crazy for you but not that crazy."
or..."Sol complains about his crummy week, month, summer, and so on."

Don't worry, there isn't much complaining. Actually, there's nothing but complaining, but you won't notice it much, as there's lots of action, such as the putting in and taking out of pipes, the forceful removal of dead things from said, and the like. On with the show!

I live on a farm. This may or may not come as a surprise to you, depending on whether you are part of that very small but dedicated group that follows me around where ever I go. Also, no one else can see you. But I do live on a farm, though, you can see that.

I don't like farms. Not in the scorched earth sense where I want them turned into expanses of glass. I mean, I like farms. I just don't like farms, you know? That is, I don't grok farms.

So, of course, what better way for me to spend my summer than to work on one. My own, in fact, as I am constantly and consistantly reminded. ("Someday, all that you survey", etc.) It isn't how I would choose to spend my summer.

Some of you, mainly the oppressively cruel, and my father, would say so what? It's good for you, you lazy shiftless beast! Why, when I was your age I had seventeen jobs, nine of which involved backbreaking labor, and I only had three backs, but I did them anyway! Yes, yes, very nice.

Not that I'm complaining. I mean, of course I'm complaining, but not really about the work. Though I will complain about the work, just not yet. Now, maybe. Yes, now.

Sorry about that. Anyway, my standard schedule. Peruse.

5:00 AM: Alarm goes off. Simon (That's me, in case you're new or don't care.) wakes up eventually to Megadeath trying valiantly to convince me that they still rock, dude. I disagree and reach over to shut it off, only to discover that my nightstand was removed the day before, leaving me with an alarm clock sitting on the floor out of comfortable arm's reach. Damnation!

5:10: Back to bed, if I can wing it. Possibly from my new position on the floor.

5:30: The father call. "We're leaving at six." I respond by moaning unintelligibly, hoping perhaps to scare off of the evil spirits. This doesn't work, but I try anyway. Also, I remember the very, very strange dream I had involving Paul Harvey releasing an album of oldies covers with a backing swing band. Ouch.

6:00: Having scurried from bed, and pulling on whatever clothes I can find, I move outside. The irrigating starts. (Well, first we get in the pickup and get out elsewhere. Then the irrigating starts.) I turn sprinklers off. I get wet. Fun.

7:30: Having finished with what sprinklers are available, I get to move on to corn and grapes, both of which are fed by ditches. I shovel for an hour or two. I put this very odd substance into the water which ensures it cannot stick to anything at all, even itself. The chemistry of this evades me, but I know that it will stick to your pants for days and days.

9:00ish: Drink time! The most enjoyable part of the day, when I wind up buying Pepsi for those around me. And myself. We drink in peace for a space, followed by...

10:00: Odd job time! Spraying, which involves dumping large amounts of herbicide down the back of my pants. Pipe draining or moving. Oh, pipes. My true nemesis I think. Consider, for a moment, a metal pipe on a hot summer day. Who knows how hot it gets in there? A squirrel, apparently. One which has decided for whatever reasons squirrels have to wander into this particular pipe before venturing off into the Great Beyond, leaving behind its corpse to greet me when I'm plugging said pipe into another pipe with water flowing through it. Exit squirrel. Exit Simon.

Also, there was a mouse that flew at me under similar circumstances, though it was far less decayed, and I was able to run screaming like a little girl because no one was around. In the first instance, I had to feign nonchalance for the benefit of observers. "Whew, he's been in there a long time, eh? Uh...what say we change places for a moment? My, uh, back hurts."

I've left out the best part, which is when I begin to sneeze. Violently. I am, apparently, alergic to anything born under a yellow sun. This generates what are apparently quite funny facial expressions from me, judging by the reaction of witnesses.

So, that's my day. Everyday. Sundays too.

I don't like farms. Humans were not meant to be up at five in the morning. At least, not human college students who wanted to become writers in the first place so they could avoid this sort of thing.

And on a semiserious note, the monotony gets to me too. It's the same thing, day after day after day. It numbs something inside, I think.

I find myself waiting eagerly for college to start, so that I might have a vacation from my summer.

Anyway, that's what I've been doing, and why I haven't been here much as of late.

I've also been driving past a girl's house and listened to sad love songs. These two may or may not be connected. Perhaps I'll go into them later.

But what I really want to know is...how is YOUR summer going?

------------------
But the dead only quickly decay. They don't go about being born and reborn and rising and falling like souffle. The dead only quickly decay.
--
Gothic Archies
****
Read chapter one of "Dirk Tungsten in...The Disappearing Planet"! For the love of God, Montressor!

Posted by First of Two (Member # 16) on :

I live on a farm too. My parents' farm.
Wel, it's an ex-farm, we let somebody else rent out most of the farm for growing.
However, maintenance chores are an utter bitch.

So as soon as they croak, I'm selling off the place to a developer and getting the hell out.

------------------
"Nobody knows this, but I'm scared all the time... of what I might do, if I ever let go." -- Michael Garibaldi

Posted by Saltah'na (Member # 33) on :

You can turn it into a horse ranch. A very LARGE horse ranch, that is.

A friend's parents moved from the city and bought a huge farm. Well, actually, the farm is now a large piece of land, large as the eye can see. No livestock, no crops.

Construction on the horse ranch started last year. They basically spent whatever life savings on renovating the old farm buildings that are still there. They just finished now, they bought some horses and ponies, and they should be opening pretty soon.

GF has never ridden a horse before. I intend to take her there.

------------------
"My Name is Elmer Fudd, Millionaire. I own a Mansion and a Yacht."
Psychiatrist: "Again."

[This message has been edited by Tahna Los (edited July 13, 2000).]

Posted by Fabrux (Member # 71) on :

My summer's alright, I guess. Whenever I work, it's at a farm-ish type place. They have fields with hay, and horses. Most of the time all I do is mow a few lawns. It's not all that bad. Yet.

------------------
"Huh. An intelligent guard. I never would have guessed."
-Preed, Titan A.E.

Posted by TSN (Member # 31) on :

Uh... Uh... Quite a few of my ancestors were farmers... But about four or five generations back at the nearest to me... :-)

------------------
"If I wanted your opinion, I'd call you up in hell."
-Ozzy Osbourne, "Tomorrow"

Posted by Epoch (Member # 136) on :

Come come sol you haven't even gotten to the fun stuff. Wait until one of the little buggers crawls into a pipe with a sprinkler on it. I've come across many plugged sprinkler heads and just assumed that it was clogged with grass or the like. Standard proccedure jam a wire down the nozzle, you know it isn't grass when blood starts spurting out (this is usually followed with a string of profanities). Why because then you have to disassemble the damn thing to dig the now pulverized animal out. I am so glad that we moved and I have a job in town. I feel your pain.

------------------
Death before Dishonor!
However Dishonor has
quite a disputed defintion.

Posted by Sol System (Member # 30) on :

My favorite part is when their tiny little paws get forced through the nozzle and sit there waving back and forth at you.

That's usually when I call it a day. "Boy, it sure is hot out here, huh?"

Posted by Jay the Obscure (Member # 19) on :

Come to me Simon, I have a hedonistic land for you to frolic through. A luxurious bacchanal of sun filled delights without a farm for miles. I call it Los Angeles.

It calls you Simon....

------------------
Oh, goody, the Sea Monkeys I ordered have arrived. Heh heh heh, look at them cavort and caper.
~C. Montgomery Burns

And be sure to visit The Field Marshal project http://fieldmarshal.virtualave.net/

Posted by Curry Monster (Member # 12) on :

With an offer like that I'd be afraid. Very afraid. Expecially if you have seen the movie 'crash'. Boy was that freaky. Simon, don't let Jay drive at any cost.

------------------
"Remeber, if there is a nuclear explosion, be sure to close your windows as the massive heat could cause objects within your home to catch fire".

Wise, wise words.

Posted by PsyLiam (Member # 73) on :

Simon? Simon? MOOOOOOOVVVVVVVVVVVEEEEEEEEEE!

Although I'm guessing that's not practical. Bugger eh? Someone your age shouldn't be getting up before 10.

Couldn't you go on holiday? Come here? Go to Australia. Hell, go and stay at Frank's. You may have to put up with his "accurate to 1/1000th scale 120m Defiant model and blueprint" display, but at least you'll get some kip.

------------------
"I can't believe we're actually gonna meet Guru Lou. Everyone says he's the wisest man in the universe. He's sensitive, creative, has a great sense of humour, and he's a really smooth dancer. *giggles*"
"You're confused Polly. We're not meeting Paul Newman."
- Polly & Speedy; Samurai Pizza Cats

Posted by Curry Monster (Member # 12) on :

Liam has a point. Can't you try the following trick on your father:

"Dad, I'm only gonna say this once. Once you're gone, I'm up and out. Sodding off, selling up, and hitting the road. Therefore until then, let me get some damn sleep".

Now the above may be a bit extreme, but you get the idea. Of course being a right wing yank he may just get peeved that you dared to insult of the 'grand-daddy' american way of life and shoot your arse. Still, anything is better than getting up at 5am. ANYTHING.

------------------
"Remeber, if there is a nuclear explosion, be sure to close your windows as the massive heat could cause objects within your home to catch fire".

Wise, wise words.

Posted by PsyLiam (Member # 73) on :

And let me back up Daryus there.

ANYTHING!

Well, except getting up at 4, but apart from that, ANYTHING!

Posted by Sol System (Member # 30) on :

I have a friend who gets off work at five AM.

At any rate, assuming I actually bother to finish my paperwork, I shall be moving to my next college this fall, at which point I will hopefully be far removed from waking up before noon.

Posted by Diane (Member # 53) on :

Don't mind my saying, Simon, but for a person who hates his lifestyle so much, you don't seem to work very hard to get out of it. Filling out paperwork, for example. Alternatively, if you can actually write a novel AND sell it, you'd easily have enough money to move anywhere you like. That, of course, depends on how badly you *really* want to get out, as you probably know (well, I do anyway) what kind of discipline it takes to write a 300-page novel. Poetry is fine and dandy, but you probably won't be able to live on it until you're dead. Incorporating them in a novel is the best way to go.

------------------
"One more day before the storm
At the barricades of freedom!
When our ranks begin to form
Will you take your place with me?"
--Enjolras, "One Day More," Les Miserables

[This message has been edited by Tora Ziyal (edited July 16, 2000).]

Posted by TSN (Member # 31) on :

Paperwork? *imagines Simon handing his parents an application for extended leave-of-absence*

------------------
"I just measured him. He's about 21"."
-Chris Martin, 14-Jul-2000

Posted by Curry Monster (Member # 12) on :

She's right. I'm intending to incorporate my smaller writings into a larger novel. Only way I'll ever get the thoughts on paper and seen. But as for finding the discipline to actually write the thing...well it'll be awhile.

------------------
"More beer, more beer, more beer, more beer! ARSE!"
- Ode to God.

Posted by Sol System (Member # 30) on :

Actually, Ziyal is probably 150% right. Though it takes me awhile to admit it, most of my problems stem from simple procrastination.