Oh my aching back.
I spent the weekend up to my elbows in sheep manure and loam, planting roses and lilacs and impatiens, and discovering just how irritatingly anal I can be trying to find the perfect equilibrium between little lavender-coloured flowers and prickly little bushes.
How many times did I rip up and re-plant the same five or six little bunches, aiming to create more balance in the bed? Enough to make moving about this a.m. a virtual cartoon of the ancient whiner, complete with little squiggly lines radiating out from the hand-supported spot on the small of my back, little moans escaping my frowning puss, impressing precisely no one.
I’m on the landscaping committee of my condo (our motto: “if it bends it’s comedy; if you break it - you buy it”) and I had no idea showing up last year’s landscape committee was going to come at such a high personal price.
And speaking of manure, howsabout this election?
And speaking of anal, howsabout those candidates?
Steven Harper – hiding out on the campaign trail, attending only those events mounted by Conservative riding associations, speaking only to those already committed, making sure to be on the same (bible) page as his audience, preaching (as it were) to the choir.
Jack Layton – who simply cannot believe his luck, copping votes he could never otherwise hope to win, gliding up the centre aisle, gladhanding all the way. Who knew he had a sincere smile in him? (If he Nader’s this election, it just might turn that smile upside down.)
I have no idea what Gilles Duceppe is doing – just that he’s likely doing it in a calm, relaxed manner, sitting pretty as he pulls in more votes than he, like Layton, ever thought possible.
And Paul Martin – he’s here, he’s there – he’s everywhere; driving his staff and supporters crazy, flying frenziedly from coast to coast, leaving no hand unshaken, no baby unkissed, no vote unasked for. You’ve gotta give him credit – the man’s not afraid of hard work, not afraid of admitting the going’s getting tough – not afraid of getting going.
Oh my aching head.
I’m afraid – really actually afraid that we could wake up tomorrow to an Alliance/Reform government. Because let’s face it – that’s what it really is. This election has fooled some people into forgetting that until recently, these were people who occupied a space on the continuum, just a few too few towns away from Kookoobananasville.
A party created by a lie told by a lying liar. (If Peter McKay had kept his promise during the leadership race, none of this would be happening now.) A party born in deceit, (manipulated behind the scenes by Brian! Mulroney!)sharing few if any qualities with the once great Conservative party, and peopled by some of the most narrow-minded, me-firster’s, me-righter’s Canada has ever produced, now has an actual crack at running the joint.
If so, wave goodbye to our most hard won principles and policies; flap your hankie at social programs that actually separated us from other countries like opposable thumbs separate animals from humans; bid farewell and adieu to soon not being able to tell even the slightest difference between Americans and Canadians. And by 'Americans' I don't mean American Americans; I mean George W. Bush Americans - the ones currently running that country into the ground.
You can shovel all the manure you like, spread dirt around from coast to coast, but if we don't watch out, what comes up tomorrow with the sun won't be smelling like roses...
More like Bush.