The goo pit
What day is it? I was warned that this would happen; without the regulation of a job/routine, the weekend never really ends. Or, as one of the Downton set was heard to say, “What is a weekend?” I like the feeling, but there are moments of dizziness.
Made a really spicy pot of curried pork. I tend to ignore the labels on jars, but maybe counting the peppers is a good idea. Had to keep a glass of milk close at hand. The others in the house seem to enjoy such fare (although the dog wasn’t consulted OR included).
The west-to-east pipeline crisis is back. The mayor of Montreal said he didn’t want it, which has caused others to complain about his selfish attitude. Let’s see if I can get this straight. The industry wants carte blanche to send toxic goo to a port for export to another continent. The path between the goo pit and the dock leads through a lot of prime real estate, owned by others. Although the goo sellers have had a series of really messy spills from other pipelines, those who might have to clean that goo off their lawns (OK, out of their forests and lakes) are supposed to believe that there will never be another incident. Oh yes, and the goo people don’t do cleanups. Not part of the business plan.
I think the mayor has called this one right. It sucks living in a landlocked province (I love my Maritime perspective), but until you turn the goo into something useful, just keep it in your own back yard.
