Saturday, September 29, 2012

Brown Concrete

It had to happen, now twice. The 60' driveway  (13.2 cubic meters) of concrete poured yesterday at the vineyard where I work, was colored brown by way of post manufacturing colorants that are added to the redi-mix truck before it departs the yard so it is thoroughly mixed by the time it gets to the jobsite. And as regular readers will know, the perps hound me with redi-mix concrete trucks (and the cement tankers too), and also like to arrange brown colored objects/skin color proximate to me. And now, the culmination of both at once, surely a perp coup; working on a brown concrete pour. This was significantly larger than the 12' long single step pour of three weeks ago, also a brown concrete job, different brown though, even if it adjoins this driveway.

I was working for the fellow who built the forms and was responsible for the job for the last week, doing raking, digging, soil transport, soaking the ground (with a hose and nozzle). Two days ago we were working on the steel reinforcement (rebar), and even yesterday morning before the first load of redi-mix concrete came in the large redi-mix truck. In other words, pouring of the concrete was the culmination of a considerable amount of work. This time there was a concrete crew of three, plus the fellow, plus me attempting to look busy as I had never worked on a concrete job before. I was the one pulling the rebar up so it didn't sit on the ground, so it would be positioned mid-height in the concrete pad. But I had to wonder if it was any useful, as the crew would routinely walk on the rebar as they waded through the wet concrete slop to do their screeding (smoothing it out with long implements). I also did my bit and helped the fellow out with the vibrator electrical cord so it didn't get into the sloppy mix.

I walked on the finished driveway today, also soaking it with a hose each hour. The perps pulled a shit stunt, forcing a crap after a long series of shit stunts through the summer that suddenly stopped about six weeks ago. Thankfully, no toilet blocking, a rarity given their past record of toilet obstruction games at this location. But "somehow" a shit pebble arrived on the floor of the route to the washroom, found on my way out, with the cat drawing my attention to it first. I have had shit flicking games in the bathroom before, but nothing as obviously imposed as extending these games to another room.

A yellow shirt on today, always a big deal for the perps as it is rare they let me wear it. The yellow and brown color association games have been long noted, and I suppose this is par for the course.

Another perps theme they have me doing, is watering from the various hoses at the vineyard; vegetable garden, ornamental roses, petunias at the fishpond. then more powerwashing today, then hosing down the above mentioned concrete pad to keep it moist to slow down the cure and make it stronger. In the latter instance, using a green hose on the S end, and a blue hose on the N end. And at this rented residence, I do hand irrigation (=watering) of the plants that don't quite make in the range of the underground sprinklers. Different colors of hoses, and differing combinations of hose material.

A get-my-attention stunt this morning; driver of a pickup coming head on in my lane, 80' away before he yanked it back into his lane. And no excuse of bicyle or anthing else, just a blatant oncoming vehicle on a tertiary artery that has profuse traffic whenever I am driving there.

In the evening, a wacko woman in the checkout lineup getting way too close, then grabbing my items on the checkout belt, and when I objected, she went into a babble about "stuff", re-using the same word I got stiffed with. The faux nutter is a favorite perp guise, along with faux vagrants.

Vineyard- all over the place, the owner doesn't want to commit to what kinds of wines he wants to make. The contractor vintner came by to tour the vineyard, and I was tagging along. I didn't get any pressure washing done today, it seems they need to string out this job as much as possible

An amazingly warm and cloud free day, unlike yesterday's cloud games, aka contrails. Shirt off again, now past the fall equinox and I am still picking up a little tan. I did bunch counts, and crop estimates. Only 200kg of Pinot Noir is forecast, which will equal 120 liters of wine at the general 60% Kilograms to Liters yield conversion. Not much of a crop there, but only 71 vines. About 5000 vines in Pinot Blanc, all contracted to the aforementioned party.

The double notice jerkaround from the Post Office again; sending me a second parcel delivery attempt notice two days after the first, and I take it there and they say it isn't available. Well of course, I picked it up yesterday. Then to the alterations woman who fixed the zipper in my pack, botched the job of making shorter shorts from the on-sale pair I supplied. Even the simplest tasks get sabotaged.

A one hour nap when I got back for no reason as my sleep is up-to-date.

Not quite the glorious cloud free day of yesterday, but plenty warm enough for off-shirt time of some three hours before cloud cover came over and ended my on-the-job tanning.

Back to watering, this time a blue hose from the above concrete job was used, always a big deal for the perps when they can change up hoses and nozzles. And by extension, crop irrigation pipes, sprinklers and water dispersal heads. The last vineyard I worked at was changing out their PVC ball valves and putting in the better quality brass ones for reasons that weren't explained. There was nothing wrong with the PVC ones, though they don't last in the weather as the brass ones do. No doubt the wine from this new irrigation item will be duly evaluated by the perps. Endless amounts of variation in water delivery pipes and sprinkers remains a firmament in their research objectives. And too, water itself, from various sources and that would include the bottled water industry and all the schmoes who imbibe it. The vineyard I work at has two water sources and two storage tanks. The creek water supplies the first part of the year, and the Skaha lake water the latter, coming from the S and N respectively. This is identical to their immediate N neighbor who farms an orchard. I am sure the perps like to compare the energetic properties of his orchard fruit and whatever enegetic differences there are, also considering some of the irrigation line is common, and the submain lines' delivery to the trees and vines isn't. All too exciting for perp research.

A Saturday, and in the realm of gentrified vineyard work, the start of a two day weekend. A haircut is due this morning, and the perps plant absurd ideations along with this, the second time in 6 weeks they have pulled this identical ideation theme.

The new location of the stylist I go to is the 300 block of downtown, and lo, if there isn't a Saturday market in mid-street, which makes for all kinds of passers-by, aka malingering gangstalking, though not visible from the haircut station. They even had one lying down on the curb-sidewalk (concrete-asphalt) interface, pretending to be sick or something with a female "friend" helping him. And lo, if the putative sick dude wasn't wearing plaid shorts, the perps very special fugly male wear they arrange almost year round for this town.

And continued perp-planted ideations over getting liposuction, absurd to say the least given the cost, never mind that the perps can add or substract fat as they like, and have done so in the past, under the guise of medication side effects. They have cycled me from pre-04-2002 normal (190lb) down to 180lb, then up to 215lb, and now have me at 195lb, about 5lb more than the start of this year. It is just plain tiresome to be so jerked with, in all its facets and manifestations. One year when working at a farm, they had me weighing myself on the pallet scales, and jacked with the display, indicating that I was 175lb. I wasn't losing any such weight, but the perps were consistently messing with the display.

In the waiting area of the cosmetology school,I selected O Magazine to read, though before I could sit down,  the head instructor asked me if I was "feeling strong", and I said no different than usual, and she asked me if I could do a favor and open the a gallon can of acetone as the safety cap was slipping. It slipped for me too, and I suggested pliers, but those didn't work either as they were the fixed hinge kind. She asked me if the screwdriver would work, and I said it would as a brute force method. So she applied herself to prying the cap off. She thanked me for my help, and I said it wasn't very much as she was the one that got the cap off. Anyhow, my stylist came to watch for a bit, and I suppose that is all part of the gangstalk deal, have the same in-close folks move to different places along with me before the extended contact time of sitting in her chair for the haircut. Never mind the chemical ether interaction of the acetone. And what is going on when the perps arranged two unrelated persons with hats on? One a customer that just finished something, and a woman as a "friend" of a customer.

I had the same stylist twice before, and the perps totally wiped my recall in not recognizing her. She looked a little different with heavy eye makeup, and only halfway through the haircut did I get to read her name tag and was allowed to recognize the name. I never, ever, forget a face, especially one seen at length, and even more so, I had her as a stylist twice before. For her part, she didn't make reference to any prior conversations we had and treated me like I had never met her before.

The perps have done this faked "forget" mind fuck before, often in service job personnel. They wipe my recall to the point of only having a vague notion that I might of seen the person before, and augment this with the person having much different makeup and/or wearing heavy glasses and not offering any recognition. Go figure.

Back from the haircut, and it is always a big deal then; ambulatory gangstalkers at the ready, and later a siren show with the big red firetruck coming down the main drag. And back to the mall where they forced me to take the fourth piss of the morning, replete with the shiftless loitering males and quite a pong too. At the LD store they put on a wheelchair stalker twice in the aisle and had her loitering at the checkout, and then timed her departure to do a lead-ahead stalking out the doors to the mall. Other Fuckwits who kept popping up wherever I was also did an obligatory visit-the-wheelchair while it was posted while engaging in a financial transaction.

Onto settling accounts with the landlady who lives upstairs. I do the garden maintenance and other duties to be tallied against the rent, bringing it down by $100 or so per month. I hand watered parts of the front and backyard that miss sprinkler coverage and it was taking 20 to 25 minutes. I claimed 20 minutes and she then tells me it only takes 15 minutes. Well, OK, if I hurry it along, and do less watering per plant, maybe 15 minutes. So if she knew this in advance, why didn't she tell me to do only a quick (though not adequate IMHO) job in 15 minutes? The endless FUD and disinfo fuckery that goes on each day is relentless.

Same at the vineyard where I work; a said-to-be important task of arranging the fruit bunches to be individually suspended from the vine and not on the wire or massed with other bunches was to be done in two weeks, all six acres. A tall order without mangling the fruit and wasting some of it, but anyhow, I start the job, but he wants it faster, so I take shortcuts. Then a week later I am "finished with the vineyard" and am the assistant winemaker, cleaning up the assorted, if not disorganized equipment. So... was the fruit arranging really that important or not? I don't know, as I don't have sufficient viticultural experience, but there wasn't anyone else to do it.

Now to post this Saturday evening, as it seems that I am getting interference in posting it on Sunday evenings. No habit or routine goes unfucked with.

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