Farming Hiatus

July 24, 2010

1940h

An eventful day on the berry picking front, as in no more work. I was promised work until October for any and all farm work duties, and now poof, its over. And of course the Fuckwits put on extra gangstalking to celebrate the event, and the sirens have increased in frequency since I got back. I got a ride back, and retrieved all my rain gear and gumboots as well. No more return trips unless I get a phone call this next week, but it is unlikely that it will occur. There was way too much management dysfunction in the last few days; e.g. no locals doing weeding was mentioned, and then later in the same day I got detailed to do weeding. Another was that I was sent home at 1500h because there wasn't enough berry picking, and then when about to clock out at the warehouse building, the owner's son “happened” to be there, and offered us weeding jobs for the next two hours. More owner family blowups over that one I heard by way of the rumor mill. The bummer was that I was expecting to stay there until late September and get enough working hours in to have an unemployment claim, so it looks like another gig is in order. Regular readers will recall that I did berry picking last year in July, and then got suddenly dumped, and took on daffodil bulb picking again. Well, it is very possible this could be a repeat of last year, the perps taking their research results at a new location so to compare to an benchmark one (daffodil farm), all in the course of doing farm work. Last year the employment arrangements had me spending a week of doing nothing between gigs, a seeming forced arrangement, and that just maybe the deal this time too. We shall see.

And my interest in learning Spanish from the Mexicans also got stopped, only a day after getting an English Spanish dictionary, “diccionario”. This is how it goes; promising endeavors get scripted and supported and then get truncated while still in their infancy. The Oracle 11g upgrade courses of 01 to 03, 2010 are antother example; no jobs on this front, and according to my mother, who barely knows what IT is, nothing until the fall of 2010.

On the other Fuckover fronts, the laundry is getting to be a grievous endeavor. More lint arrives on my laundry than it has going in, and so I went to the 5^th floor washing machine instead. It didn't finish the cycle again, and the clothes were sopping wet. I launch them again, and get screwed into a two hour long nap, and when I go to retrieve my laundry, why, there was this wet mopped floor, presumably discharged from the washing machine. My clothes were inside, and spun to normal dryness. What that was all about I have no idea, but for some reason the assholes won't let me complain about the washing machine problems to the apartment management.

Another Fuckover front, has been about aquiring new moisture wicking shirts for outside work. The assholes destroyed one such shirt, and have been jerking me around in getting replacements. Today, one of the ordered shirts was this ugly hospital green color instead of “dusty olive” so it goes out ASAP. An order three weeks ago had the same problem with an ugly brown color when I was to get “stone” color. And of course, the colors seen online differ from the real thing. A local store shopping episode of two weeks ago for four shirts also got messed up with one acquired shirt being identical to the one I already have, and one other being long sleeve when I was expecting short sleeve. So I would surmise that the Mexicans at work who were interested to learn the word “shirt” weren't totally self interested to improve their English vocabulary, but to continue the perps' obsession over this garment in all possible dimensions as to color, material type, acquisition source and of course, the bizarre hijinks over whether I keep a just bought shirt or not.

July 25, 2010

1055h

Another round of laundry, this time bed sheets, and lo, if the sickos didn't run a rip in the fitted bottom sheet, one of those “eruptions”, as there was no evidence to suggest such an outcome. No doubt the acquisition of sheets, pillows and matress cover is all planned for some gangstalking hell. And too, more time in bed with ripped sheets as well if last time is a harbinger, as Monday (tomorrow), a prospective shopping day where I will need my mother's vehicle to get all this home, is booked up with other events. And yet again, the one item that I hung dry, and is also just purchased, is splattered with lint, one of the ongoing jerkaround themes of late, cousin of the incessant crumbs and doghair inundations.

I will be off to the First Feral Family home tonight, doing the regular Sunday night stayover, and odd jobs around the house and garden. The perps interest in having me do weeding and pruning continues unabated and no doubt will be accompanied by extra noise; aircraft, vehicles, neighbor lawnmowers, chainsaws and other powered equipment. And just to think, much of the farm work of the past 7 weeks was done while under or near (within 200m) of power line. The raspberry picking was directly underneath the powerline, so I am sure the perps found this endlessly fascinating as they keep me in a densified magnetic field (measured at 1600 Gauss last year). And not to mention the three cellphone towers also in close proximity, two on the powerline pylons, and one about a mile away on a rocky high spot with a 60' tower on top of it. I have seen masers or some kind of odd emanations from the latter when looking in that direction, so I am sure my time spent doing farm work at this location was well spent from the perp's perspective of EMF interference games.