The fields are alive with the...er, smell of, er...crap.
(And yes, I know, it's the hills, but hey, there are none nearby).
Well, it's that time of the year again. It's spring, snow is gone and as I drive each morning to Drummondville for my internship, my nose is attacked by a dozen different smells, are equally repulsive. Because, when one lives in the country, spring means tending to the fields again, and of course that imply spreading manure all over the place (roads included). It also means that I must avoid "death by tractor", as they drive oh-so-slowly on the road, taking all the place with their wide, spiked butts (you know, that thingy they carry to upturn the soil? Which promise you a painful and smelly end?). And when it winds, there's a reddish-brown mist that rise and I don't think I need to explain further what it's made of....
Ah yes, I love living in the country. Birds committing suicide on my car, but most of all a lush green scenery all around as I drive, and pastoral landscape filled with cute animals (and many dead and squished, but let's not go there). But seriously, I like living here, despite the smell and suicidal animals.
Today we reached 27 C, and as I was slowly baking in my car, my thoughts went to
themadpuppy, who must by now have begun her hibernation (read: barricaded herself inside, with air conditioning blasting full force). Was a little bit jealous, I must say.
Otherwise, on a more serious note, I achieve a feat few students have managed: in one week, I finished my master degree, had my prom, moved back home and found a job, a good one at that. So now you understand the radio silence, eh?
And me who wanted a quiet summer. Meh.
Well, it's that time of the year again. It's spring, snow is gone and as I drive each morning to Drummondville for my internship, my nose is attacked by a dozen different smells, are equally repulsive. Because, when one lives in the country, spring means tending to the fields again, and of course that imply spreading manure all over the place (roads included). It also means that I must avoid "death by tractor", as they drive oh-so-slowly on the road, taking all the place with their wide, spiked butts (you know, that thingy they carry to upturn the soil? Which promise you a painful and smelly end?). And when it winds, there's a reddish-brown mist that rise and I don't think I need to explain further what it's made of....
Ah yes, I love living in the country. Birds committing suicide on my car, but most of all a lush green scenery all around as I drive, and pastoral landscape filled with cute animals (and many dead and squished, but let's not go there). But seriously, I like living here, despite the smell and suicidal animals.
Today we reached 27 C, and as I was slowly baking in my car, my thoughts went to
themadpuppy, who must by now have begun her hibernation (read: barricaded herself inside, with air conditioning blasting full force). Was a little bit jealous, I must say.
Otherwise, on a more serious note, I achieve a feat few students have managed: in one week, I finished my master degree, had my prom, moved back home and found a job, a good one at that. So now you understand the radio silence, eh?
And me who wanted a quiet summer. Meh.