Monday, October 31, 2011

Potato Mush

10-25-2011 I am wearing new shoes acquired via my newfound "habit", now in its fifth time, of getting clothing that is heavily discounted at Sierra Trading Post dot com. This brought on, major extra attention on the bus headed to the farm job, double the number of "regulars" on the bus at 0715h.

And my co-workers were buzzing all around me and couldn't help but getting in my way at every turn, especially while dealing with the rotting pumpkins in the bins and sorting them out. See below on why so many pumpkins are going rotten.

And re-washing packaged potatoes again, so many of them are severely mushy as they get tipped out of their 50lb boxes onto the conveyor line where I am to be picking out the most rotten ones, leaving the rest to be graded down the line.

10-26-2011 A run-down attempt with someone starting their red pick up truck from a stop just to get me in the intersection, the Fuckwit looking at me and pointing his finger at me while making the corner in front of me. Never have I seen someone so deliberate in getting in my way on a walk signal before, as the Fuckwit could of turned earlier, but chose to initiate his right turn as the walk signal turned on.

A payday; my check "forgotten" while everyone else got theirs, handed out by the farm administrator at the carrot conveyor line. Then, about an hour later, she came back while I was beside the clattering potato washing/packing equipment. This does fit the pattern of isolating the circumstances and location of when an event of perp interest occurs to me, and having it arranged elsewhere, especially with background noise.

Alternating potato re-wash with bagging carrots. Plenty of rotten spuds and mush to deal with, never mind the rain for most of the day. A way to have me take my rain coat on and off at least 8x, and having me wear these wonderful Blue Storm rainpaints, also inside for a 40 min. spell while bagging carrots. By mid afternoon I took them off as the sun was begining to peek through and the rain had abated. So.. at various points, some 5 kinds of blue that I was wearing, in various combinations. Not to mention the extensive brown cardboard box handling and getting them thrown at me again. I have never encountered so many blithe and belligerent action (long form for saying "accidentally on purpose") in all my life, just throwing a carboard box behind them without looking knowing that I was close by and moving about well within range. I don't get it; the first order of throwing something is to make sure that no one is in the way. Seeming a lost concept at this farm work, unless of course this entire gig is scripted.

Double negro day on the 0715h bus, as they haven't shown in weeks. One in a day-glo yellow toque near the front, and at the next stop the crotch-wide-open negro construction laborer (a repeat from last time) in brown overalls The second one needed to re-tie his boot laces for some reason, getting him in the "crapping pose", (a favorite perp pose while seated but leaning forward for no apparent reason).

I had better get this done or it will go on for weeks. A bit of a surprise, as I thought the farm job was to end on Oct. 31, but no, the farmer said "as long as you want", which I cannot take literally as I really want to take December off if I am to go for three months of classes in Penticton starting in Jan. 2011.

I finally get it; very mushy rotten potatoes for re-washing (after being packed into 50lb boxes two months earlier), and even splatter that got on my clothes. It was to be a big potato washing day as it is the last full day for the three remaining Mexican farm workers, but lo, if we didn't go pumpkin picking for an hour. And there were very many rotten pumpkins there too, as they didn't cut the green stems before the plant died down and the rot translocated along the stems and into the pumpkin. Funny, the farm I worked at two years ago did the same thing. Then it dawned on me that the underlying theme is rotting, or composting vegetable matter, whether it be pumpkins, potatoes, and latterly when on the packaging line, carrots. The decomposition of live matter has some unique properties the perps are looking for via my interaction, being kept in a densified magnetic field as well as mind controlled down to everything I see, hear and think. And I have mentioned the perps' exasperating interest in composting leaves and garden waste before. Also, Ms. C of the story did her Master Composting Certificate during the dating days of 2000 to 2003.

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