The four season

Fule for Thought

 

I know it’s too much to ask for in Strathmore, but I’d really like the weather to match the calendar. It would be great to actually have four distinct seasons. Lately we seem to have wet, crappy springs, late summers, beautiful autumns, and if this winter is any indication, too much snow. It got me thinking of the four seasons (not Frankie Valli’s group). I’ve always wondered how he (and Brian Wilson) hit those high notes! So I thought I’d take a walk down “Memory Lane” on some strange seasons’ events.

One Spring, when I was about 15, a friend and I worked at Canmore’s bottle depot. It was a big quonset with a large deck in front where the customers would back up to, unload their bottles and cans, and my pal Dave and I would count up their profits. This one spring day had more than customers arrive. While I was adding up one customer’s totals, a big black bear lumbered out of the trees toward our dock. I had wondered why this customer had jumped back into his truck, now I knew! The bear did not notice me, and I kind of stood there in shock mixed with just a hint of fear! My pal Dave was already gone … he had sprinted into the bottle depot, and our “boss,” who was also my English teacher, whispered for me to back toward the nearest door. I think if there was ever a “Walk Backward Race” in the Olympics, I would have qualified that day! Once inside, our teacher called the Ranger Station to get someone to come out. Surprisingly, they told us that the RCMP were the best to call! They in turn, told us to call the Ranger Station. By the time we got it all sorted out, and the RCMP arrived, the bear was gone. We actually got to close then, but I never got to thank the bear!

I murdered a weed trimmer one summer. It had it coming, I swear. It was an old gas model, and I had to fight with it every time to get it started. I’d repeatedly pull the cord, and only sometimes would it sputter to life! It seemed to have a mind of its own, because most times, it would die out before I’d finish trimming. Finally one day, I’d had enough … I couldn’t take it anymore. I think I was delirious with rage, and I’m sure there were many curse words. I began to swing it madly like an axe, smashing it over and over into the grass! It wasn’t breaking like I wanted, so I began to swing it into some of the 16 tons of slate rock I had put in (I’d come to hate those things, too!). I swung the trimmer into the biggest, thickest rock we had, and I watched as metal and plastic pieces flung all over our lawn! It splintered, it shattered, and finally it was in many jagged pieces. All this time, I had not noticed that Debbie was watching! She asked me if all the swearing and breaking made me feel better? I was soaked with sweat, and I told her that we needed a new trimmer, and I’d be right back! It was the happiest day of yard work I’d ever had!

The Autumn I remember most was one right at Halloween. It had been a beautiful, warm fall day, and Deb and I went to The Station for some wings and a cold, frosty beverage. It was the night of their Costume Party, so Deb and I sat back, enjoying the costumes. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw them. They were recent high school grads in full regalia. What was so surprising was that they were dressed like young Mormon men on a mission! They had on white shirts with black ties, black pants and shoes, and even name tags! They began to do everything that young LDS men would not do. In the course of a few minutes, they were drinking, smoking, flirting with the waitresses, and they even began gambling on the VLT machines! I tried not to laugh, really I did, but I couldn’t help it! When I see them now, I still remind them of that one Halloween.

During my last winter of University, two pals and I rented an old, little house near the campus. Our tiny kitchen had a window into the back yard. One blistering cold winter morning, I looked out to see the white yard and ice crystals were in the air. It was -33, and back then nobody mentioned wind chills! Suddenly, in our window, was the old lady from next door. She was in the window, then gone, in the window, then gone. I was still sleepy, and couldn’t figure out what was happening! Finally, I looked closer. The old gal was dressed in a big snow coat and pants, toque, mitts and a scarf. She was trampolining in the dead of this -33 winter morning! Then she smiled and waved to me! I waved back, and I think I toasted her with my coffee cup! Four seasons and four strange events … makes me wonder about this next season! 

 

(“Fule for Thought” is a slice of life humourous column that appears in the Strathmore Times, written by long-time resident, town councillor, high school teacher, coach, husband and father of two – Pat Fule. If you would like to get in touch with Pat, you can send him an e-mail at Pat.fule@shaw.ca)