Elgan speaks
...and her words thunder across the land

The hills are alive with the smell of pig shit.

Tuesday, Aug. 16, 2005
2:57 p.m.
I finally couldn�t stand the inactivity and headed out for a walk into town, ostensibly to deposit a cheque at the bank, but in reality just to get the fuck outside. I have wasted the whole summer sitting at one computer or another, my muscles are atrophying, and I�m turning into some kind of sloth. So it felt really, really good to get my legs moving, the blood flowing and the sweat dripping.

I really did go to the bank first, where I deposited said cheque and brought the passbook up to date, then wandered over to BIack Cat B00ks, detouring through Java so I could use the bathroom, and bumping into Jojo, whom I complimented again on her wonderful performance in the play last week. Then I spent a very pleasant hour with Janice, catching up on stuff, telling her all my computer-related woes, and she told me about the swimming and canoeing she and her man have been doing on weekends, as well as the folk festival they attended in nearby Vermont. She looks great. I ended up buying a book from her, called A Glut of Av0cados, a thin, narrow book singing the praises of that green fruit and providing lots of recipes as well, complete with illustrations, all in green of course.

Then I stopped at the pharmacy where I bought vitamins (iron pills too), and again at the health food store where I got an all-natural carbonated fruit beverage with which to slake my mighty thirst before the half-hour walk home.

The wind is from the south-east, wafting the aroma of pig shit from the experimental farm through the open windows. It nearly knocked me over as I was walking up M0ulton Hill, and it�s not much better inside the house. The project over there is to produce fodder to minimize the odor of porcine excrement. �Tain�t working.

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