Farmerrob’s Weblog

The steering wheel hit me about 11-O’Clock high, knocking me simoultaneously both to the wall and out.  The screaming ringing in my ears told me that the situation was definitely FUBAR and that I had to flee. I tried to move, but my my body was limp, caged with fear and unwilling to chance what might happen next.  Between the lapses in and out of consciousness/reality and the overwhelming fear of what might be next, I managed to grab that damn wheel and wedge it between me and the incoming bomb that was about to abduct my head from my body.  I remember thinking how powerless I felt and how as soon as I could escape under my own power, I was definitely getting the hell out this place.

When the bomb struck, a small cut opened on my head and washed the wall in a bit of blood. Not a ton, just enough to make my mother realize that perhaps she had gone too far throwing the old jeep steering wheel I “used to” play with at her child – rendering him fetal and bleeding. Maybe, just fuckin maybe, the second blow (read bomb) delivered from her maternal fist was just a bit too much for a seven year old.  The crime? I ate the vegetables in the garden that she had intended for the dinner salad that evening.

life is hard.

I love the blues.

Rob Baptie Overlooking Athabasca Glacier, 1924