An English In Kentucky


















Saturday August 26th 2017Tim Candler9


     Often tried to extend the Eggplant season. Dear things give their all and in the end an Eggplant will produce between six and nine beautiful fruits before sensing the end times, entering a spongy ennui that most certainly is not helped by the hot weather Hoppy Bug. This year your gardener instead of waiting for the natural course of events, put the Eggplant out of the their misery, it was painful, it was ugly and all I can hope for is that when my time comes someone will do the same for me, quickly and when I'm not looking. No matter how you try to balance it the life of a vegetable gardener is pretty much all about killing living things in often unpleasant ways. It's a sense of entitlement we have, which not only enables us to justify, it gives us reason and it definitely creeps into our relationships with others of our own kind.



      Then in the afterlife a person will wander around endlessly, and there, everything that was will be. And when I think about it I'll have to do a lot of dodging around, hiding in clouds, stuff like that, to avoid bumping into one or other of the many thousands of plants and insects that I've done away with. It's almost enough to turn a person toward the Christian path where the afterlife is apparently a people only reservation. Yes indeed, it's complicated for me. The idea of living for eternity amongst people only, fills me with a certain dread, which I guess is why I cleave to the slope and wish to be given to the birds of the air and whatever is left will drift to the rivers for others to feed upon, all the way back to the Gentle Blue Green Algae. Being strung up for the Buzzards makes eminent sense to me, but I'm constantly being told it's against the law in this county.


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