by Martin Anton Smith antonmartinsmithwrites@gmail.com or martinantonsmith@gmail.com
And so I go to go off for a weeding job.
You see later in life I decided I must ‘green my thumbs’ a little more.
A reprisal of ‘being up trees’ in my teens to early twenties between semesters.
It’s been a good little side gig since turning forty and burning out in Office-World-Australia.
I’m sure I’ve written about that before here and there and in various ways.
Anyway so let’s start talk of ‘Earnscleugh Weeding’ the title of this prose and come what may.
There’s nothing better than meandering and intertwining piece of prose – in my opinion.
I jump in my old Jap-import made in the last year of the last century (’twas a bad year for me).
It is still alive and passing gas – much like my good self.
It’s always nice to go work out in Earnscleugh –
It’s all hobby farms and orchards and they let the trees grow high.
(Now if you’ll excuse me I will now sidestep and delve into ‘Sheldrake-ian Morphic Field Theory’).
You see in in nearby in Alexandra-town there is the spectre of ‘Australian Culture’ still lingering –
Left over in the air from the Gold Rush era that established the town –
You see the Australian Culture of the diggers was the most fierce –
So it embedded into the ambient cultural field –
And that’s why people in Alexandra don’t let the trees grow high –
Because the ‘Australian cultural field’ is trying to replicate how towns in Australia look –
Like a oasis in the desert, but with few trees, and what there is is mostly denuded.
Alexandra-town people cut trees and foliage down like it’s a war crime if you don’t.
(Of course I help them do it for cash – so I’m dichotomously both exasperated and happy).
Out in Earnscleugh they don’t do that – for the ‘orchard and farm cultural field’ prevails – predominates.
After all Earnscleugh is a “post gold mining” location engaged directly after the gold rush died.
Yes, I’ve spent a fair bit of time out in good ol’ Earnscleugh –
Starting thirty years ago as a ‘fruit tramp’ to coin American slang for a fruit picker.
Anyway enough about Earnscleugh History and lets get back to my weeding job at hand.
Actually there is no point – the weeding job is not interesting other than to say this:
I’m doing good work helping the elderly before they go into rest homes or pass away.
The weeding is good for my health and gives some spare cash.
Doing garden work is a hobby-job of mine you might say.
I’ve kinda grown to like it more each year – if you’ll excuse the pun.
The dirt on your hands I am told has an anti-depressant effect –
So I try to not use gloves too much.
It was nice to see a couple of tui’s in the big tree overhead while I was weeding.
Although I wasn’t sure if they were lovers or fighting over territory –
Although I now those two terms are not mutually exclusive –
Perhaps they were lovebirds arguing over one of them being on the wrong side of the tree –
Kinda like humans do with the ‘marital bed’.
Of course tui’s and birds are much nicer than most humans – urban ones at least.
But let’s not get into the Schopenhauer-ian side of my psyche here too much.
After all – this is supposed to be a uplifting light tale about weeding in the country.
All in all it was a nice couple of hours –
Helping out that old farmer who now forgets and his caregiving wife.
It’s a win win for all concerned.
This kind of thing is why the country is overall a far far better place –
Although cities are great places for a party, I think we can all agree on that.
And everyone needs to have a party every now and then – even the lemony prines faced (especially so).
So I’ll see you again soon dear Earnscleugh – although I do need a break in Dunedin town soon.
After all as just discussed –
We small town folk are allowed to blow off some cooped up steam with the townees ain’t we?
Sure we are!
And it’s about time I visited ‘English Joe the Octagon barman’ too.
He’s always great for a laugh – but that’s next weeks prose I guess.
So check back soon for the ‘Boozy times with Octagon Joe’.
I’ll make sure to make a point of writing it.
And trust me an ‘Earnscleugh Weeder’ never lies.
I wonder if anyone else has ever said that line?
