Deforest City Blues: The house reno is like a hammer to my toe

A cement mixer churns outside my study window.

I’ve been asked to take another trip to the dump.

Then to Home Depot.

Then the bank.

I now hate to hear my name called.


“Gord. We have another problem. A skunk lives under your porch.”

“So, shoot the little bugger. Pour cement on it.”

“It’s a big one.”

“Make extra cement. Sing rap music. Just make the problem go away.”

In fact, I’d like everybody off my land.

Get your tools out of my workshop and offa my porch - after the skunk's gone.

Get the pickup out of my driveway - I’m tired of backing out my car before eight a.m.

“Gord. Skunk’s gone. A cat chased it away.”

“Cool. Everything’s OK?”

“Yup. That was funny, eh?”

“Heaps.”

The cement mixer stops churning.

I drop broken brick and stone at ‘Try Recycling’ and scrap lumber at the city dump.


Did you know that from the top of the landfill you can see millions of seagulls and almost all the way to Lake Erie?

Trust me. You can.

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