All Entries Tagged With: "miners"
Yellow Flagged in an Andean Paradise
Due to the virus, the world lockdown and cancelled flights we have been quarantined near a 6500-foot mountain town in Antioquia, Colombia since mid-March. It’s 74 degrees, sunny, solitary and silent.
After searching for days through empty streets and among the masked residents I have finally accepted the sorry fact that grocery stores in the small village of Jardin, Colombia do not offer Twinkies or Ding Dongs. I can deal with the blatant, almost arrogant absence of kosher pickles, ahi tuna steaks, frozen pizza, champagne and caviar but now this?
Today we bought rice, beans, mangoes, eggs, zucchini, maple syrup, chicken, garlic, peppers, yucca, potatoes, shrimp, salmon, beer, rum, granola, cheese, ham, chorizo, cream, milk, ginger, peanut butter, pasta, peanuts, potato chips, tomatoes, papaya, mineral water, paper products, soda crackers, Oreos, yogurt, toothpaste, tilapia, canned peaches, coffee, butter, basil, salsa, thyme, oregano, capers, cooking wine, olives, spaghetti sauce, pancake mix, chocolate, cilantro and cucumbers.
Our view of Jardin from the farm on the river down below
It was all delivered (eggs on the handlebars) to our finca house one kilometer from town at no extra charge. Servicio domicilio ala motorcycle. Even the beer was still cold. Survival alamode can be high impact entertainment.
Tonight we will feast on ajiaco or sancocho or maybe fritanga. Recipes for these fine Paisa dishes are easily cornered in a variety of sources for the curious gourmet.
Sitting in my al aire libre office looking at banana and mandarin trees I get the idea that I am only an intruder into this magnificent landscape of overwhelming green and breezes. My neighbor, Fabio, harvests coffee beans to sell while I marvel at the diversity of birds, monitor the same old news, write harebrained stories and read novels. You can never be bored when there are books.
I have read Tolstoy backwards. Yeats in a hammock, Marquez by candlelight and Joyce on the horizontal lien and on the lam. Yes, I am technically an illegal alien due to the virus-driven closure of immigration machine in Medellin. My partner’s passport is expired and we no longer possess valid plane tickets back to the US. We could rent recreational vehicle and make a mad dash through the Darien but there are an assortment of armed groups running the show there, and RVs are all but nonexistent in South America.
The neighbor’s dogs are paying a visit this morning while the two very friendly resident cows stare us down from flimsy fence line, waiting for us to deliver lunch from the sweet grass just out of out reach. The horses whinny and twitch in dusk’s remaining shadows unconcerned with the human predicament.
But we have not touched a clutch in months. We walk to town up and down the muddy, forest hills to the yellow bridge across the river that cascades from the chiva circus and trucharias in Caldas to the south. It is just enough exercise to lubricate our brains and bones and earn an evening beer. In town the pretty plaza stands empty on the verge of tears, holding its corsage tightly, waiting to be the center of life once again.
My outdoor office outside the village of Jardin, Colombia
We sometimes sit on our mosaic tile patio and look up at the pantomime village, a place that just weeks ago was brimming with life, now a stumblebum on a cliff. Oh but for the high-rev snarl and rumbling thunder of a badly tuned motorcycle bouncing off the Colonial walls or people yelling hello from balconies or bus horns blasting their departures, or the clinking of beer bottles or church bells banging away at ungodly hours. I never thought I’d miss these sounds of life unfolding, clatter and reverberations demanding to be heard.
The river croons, heaves and gushes after a quenching rain and Rocas* screech in the woods. We watch as the day shift of bees and flies are replaced by the night workforce of moths and beetles.
Some days I can almost hear the sound of trees growing.
*The Andean cock-of-the-rock (Rupicola peruvianus), also known as tunki (Quechua), is a large passerine bird of the cotinga family native to Andean cloud forests in South America.
HIGH COUNTRY RANCHERS TO START BONSAI HAY CROP INDOORS
(Gunnison) Due to shifting weather patterns ranchers here will start ornamental hay crops indoors in 2020. The plan, the brainchild of a rural alfalfa cadre, suggests that the hay crop be planted in small pots and placed in sunny window spots in late April.
Whether or not the use of new seed, trellises and synthetic fertilizer will be employed was not clarified. Although some ranchers have been hesitant to embrace the indoor growing concept, many have agreed to give it a try.
“I’ve been stubborn about changing the way I grow hay,” said Gabby Crispe, who irrigates 2000 acres near Baldwin, “but this tomato plant approach to hay makes sense. Over the years I’ve seen summer drought, spring flooding hellbent wind and unseasonable frost take their toll. If it ain’t wet weather when the hay’s on the ground its low water when we need more irrigation,” he added. “It’s nothing but a shooting gallery when we count on nature to do our bidding.”
Crispe went on to say that of late nature has been a little lax when it comes to helping the rancher. He stopped short of suggesting that livestock grow their own food since they are an imperative on the food chain, “at least for the present”.
After the initial steps of planting and nurturing the infant hay crop, ranchers will then transplant the seedlings into summer pasture and start the irrigation process just like before.
“Only this time the hay will be a month or two ahead of schedule allowing, with any luck, another cutting or two in the fall,” said an agricultural consultant from Weld County. “Over here we have to be very careful with regards to our image with the recent upheavals.”
The disruption, alluded to above, concerns recent squabbling over water rights, saddle sores and grazing on public lands. The conflict reached heated dimensions last month with the seizure of downtown Greeley by vegetarian paratroopers under Simone Tofu, the hero of Head Cheese Hollow. Although the vegetarians have agreed to negotiations, strategic highlands remain in their hands following a frontal assault my elements of the breakaway Downwind Boys, much feared olfactory ruffians from nearby Ault.
“What in the sam’s hell are you talking about?” asked Emma Vulcan, a longtime Gunnison Valley beekeeper and quasi-animal husbandry technician. “First, you talk about growing hay in little pots in the window then about military actions by armed vegetarians over on the prairie. I was just in Greeley last weekend and everything looks the same as it has since Horace was a boy. I used to believe what I read in your Horseshoe paper but now I’m leaning toward the Gunnison Country Times for my information,” she frowned.
According to sources at Cheyenne Mountain, which does not really exist and all, the town of Greeley was sacked on June 21 in a classic pincher movement by the Down Wind Boys. It was covered in The Times in both Gunnison and New Yrk.
“That was one of the finest martial maneuvers in Prehysteric America! Since Washington crossed the Delaware! Since the formation of the IRS!” said General Worthington Bulbous from his half-bath logistic proximity Colorado Springs bunker. “If I had ten men of that caliber I could retake the Panama Canal, maybe even Canada!”
Meanwhile clay pot shortages and further rumors as to the spread of hemp growing in the region have fallen victim to fears of herd cleansing in the aftermath of Greeley atrocities.
– Earl MacAdoo
Otros nombres para The Boogie Man
…y mujer en diferentes culturas:
La Chula Chaqui
(fantasmas en el desierto peruano)
Se acercaría a un jinete solitario por la noche durante una tormenta de arena cegadora y lo arrojaría de su caballo al suelo árido donde a menudo pisotearía o golpearía a la desafortunada víctima hasta la primera luz del día.
El “Homem del scan”
(Niño ladrón de Bahía)
El hombre despedido o el hombre bolsa lleva a los niños desobedientes a vivir con bandas de locos. Conocido en Brasil, Portugal, Angola, Cabo Verde y Mozambique. Él o ella se arrastra por las ventanas abiertas por la noche y vive en sótanos húmedos, abrazando la luz del día solo para hacer el mal. Secuestra niños traviesos a plena luz del día y se los lleva en un saco. Dependiendo de las variantes regionales, él vende a los niños o se los come.
El coco
Monstruo que visita a los confundidos y desorientados, a los derrotados y a las personas asustadas de cosas nuevas. Aparece en negro o rojo brillante al anochecer y permanece toda la noche. Vive debajo de las camas y en armarios oscuros. Un bugbear. A menudo se utiliza para referirse al miedo sin fundamento, irracional, ilógico o exagerado.
Buga Buga
Un fantasma sombrío y amorfo que se esconde en lugares oscuros para asustar a las víctimas desprevenidas. Es más una molestia que un peligro, y su poder se neutraliza fácilmente con la luz brillante. Países Bajos. Otro paradero conocido: Bélgica, Alemania
Los Bokkenrijders
Estas criaturas de miedo son ladrones de fantasmas que montan en cabras voladoras. Estos boogies fueron creados activamente por ladrones en el siglo XVIII para intimidar y aterrorizar a las comunidades agrícolas locales. Atormenta el sur de Europa y América del Sur. En el norte de Europa, a menudo trabaja como el malvado compañero de San Nicolás.
Baba Yaga
Una bruja eslava de los bosques rusos. Ella vive en una choza que se alza sobre patas de pollo gigantes, se monta en un mortero volador y lleva una mano de mortero gigante. Impredecible con los humanos, es tan probable que te ayude como te coma.
H’awouahoua
Un monstruo argelino aterrador: se describe que el H’awouahoua tiene un cuerpo compuesto de entidades gubernamentales en conflicto y ojos que son gotas de mierda en llamas. Solo vota por partido y pasa la mayor parte de su mandato electo reelegido. Para colmo, su abrigo está hecho con la ropa de los muchos niños que ha comido.
Tokoloshe
Tokoloshe son sprites de agua que hacen las órdenes de los malvados magos sudafricanos. Pueden volverse invisibles al beber agua y luego atacar y agarrar a los niños. Uno podría protegerse de Tokoloshe mientras duerme colocando un ladrillo debajo de cada pata de su cama. Eso los mantendrá a raya mientras los rituales toman el control. El destierro final requerirá los servicios de un médico brujo.
Gurumapa
El Gurumapa iof Nepal era un gigante devorador de hombres que abandonó sus malos caminos y disfruta de una posición de honor en Katmandú a cambio de no comer niños locales. Se sabe que consume un búfalo de agua entero de una sola vez.
Wewe Gombel
Con espíritu femenino, Wewe Gombel secuestra a niños indonesios para salvarlos de los malos padres. Ella los cuida con cariño en su nido sobre una palmera, negándose a devolverlos hasta que sus padres alteren sus formas abusivas o negligentes.
Namahage
Estos ogros japoneses van de puerta en puerta en la víspera de Año Nuevo, buscando niños que se hayan portado mal ese año. Celebran la temporada llevándose a los niños que son flojos o insolentes.
Mètminwi
Este coco haitiano se describe como un hombre con piernas increíblemente largas que camina por las ciudades a medianoche para atrapar y comer a cualquiera que todavía esté afuera. Su nombre es una contracción del francés maître (maestro) y minuit (medianoche).
La llorona
Este fantasma mexicano de una mujer que ahogó a sus hijos para estar con un hombre que finalmente la rechazó. Indigente, se ahogó, pero se le prohibió entrar al cielo hasta que encuentre a sus hijos. Por la noche, deambula por las orillas del río en busca de ellos, llorando “¡Ay mis hijos!” (¡Oh, hijos míos!) Y arrebatando a cualquier niño que ella confunde con el suyo.
Socialismo
Este espíritu no estadounidense ayuda a los ricos a convencer a las masas de que el socialismo es el hombre del saco que rompe la puerta por la noche con una ametralladora y un sombrero ruso peludo. Inculcar el miedo en los corazones de los grandes sin lavar evita que los pobres busquen lo que les pertenece mientras pagan impuestos y tributos a un gobierno deshonesto que representa solo a los ricos. La mayoría de las personas que temen al socialismo no pueden definir el término. A estas personas se les ha lavado el cerebro para creer que están incluidas en Big Boy Democracy cuando no hay ninguna. Hasta que las personas se enfrenten a estos intrusos ficticios que comen almas, los monstruos que los atormentarán continuarán marginando sus vidas e invadiendo su sueño.
Trump’s caddie appointed medical envoy
Donald Trump’s favorite caddie will take over federal distribution of emergency medical equipment to US hospitals it was disclosed today. The less-than-shocking announcement came during an exclusive friends only press conference attended by right wing media and members of the immediate family.
The unnamed caddie, oddly enough a a former Shakespearean actor and born again thespian, has had no previous experience other than golf course consultation and etiquette. He is the latest in a virtual parade of clown appointees, including Jared Kushner and Mike Pence who have “graced the administration with their knowledge and poise at a time of great crisis” according to a Trump spokesman.
When contacted by mainstream media the caddie, who often kept score for Trump, had no official comment other than “keep it in the short grass” a traditional bit of advice preferring fairways to roughs. He then purportedly mumbled something resembling Fair is foul, and foul is fair: Hover through the fog and filthy air which no one in the gallery could translate and therefore ignored.
“He is thrilled with the turn of events,” said a FOX News source. “He has promised to send some 10,000 non-medical golf gloves to red states by the weekend.
In addition red states will receive state-of-the-art ventilated golf carts with GPS rangefinders according to White House aides.
The President did not undress accusations that he was playing golf despite self-quarantine restrictions placed on Florida by its Republican governor Ron DeSantis, a close Trump ally. He did however promise to open up the economy despite the warnings of a golf pro and several greens keepers with knowledge of these developments.
When asked to discredit rumors that blue states would receive only tiny golf pencils and range balls from the Eisenhower years, Trump said that chipping and putting would be the responsibility of those Democrat governors who refused to replace divots.
Then a pro-Trump reporter asked if he would now play courses common to Shakespearean bunker tragedies such as Hamlet or Julius Caesar, Trump appeared stumped. He admitted that he cannot read but that he had watched a few of the plays on television. He then added that his handicap was far below that of likely opponent Boggy Joe Biden, who he called an average putter at best.
“The British are terrific golfers,” he smiled.
– Alfalfa Romero
“LET THEM EAT HAKE.” – Lieutenant William Bligh, HMS Bounty
Local Spoon Protests CAFE Standard
(Colona) Red’s Gravy Heaven survived the Persian Golf Canned Meat Crisis in 2009 and The Portuguese Cherry Tomato Scandal in 1998, but now with the newest federal energy act impounding on the door the future is anything but assured.
Today principles at the institutional eatery formally protested the federal CAFE Standard in that it unfairly targets restaurants while ignoring industries that produce greenhouse gas, create massive amounts of garbage and/or market inefficiency.
(Editor’s note: Red doesn’t know it but The CAFE standard mentioned above is merely the acronym for Corporate Average Fuel Economy. It has nothing to do with food. Rather is a measurement for determining fuel efficiency standing in the automotive industry. According to our accounting department at the newspaper, the formula is quite simple: Take the weighted average of efficiency times the total sales by units and arrive at the answer. What a moron.)
The protest cited alleges that since Red’s gravy, is a renewable resource it should not be regulated according to these new standards. Statistics provided by Canned Food Magazine strongly suggest that Red and many others are being railroaded by the Department of Transportation in a dark vendetta against mom and pop resaturants..
“As far as waste goes we received a passing grade each year since 1912,” said Red, whose grandfather started opening cans and burning daily specials just prior to Edwin Bradenberger’s invention of manufactured cellophane. That particular Red even catered the Zabern Affair in the Alsace-Lorraine the following spring.
“It’s hard enough to make a living frying eggs without the feds muscling in,” said Red. “Now they’re trying to tell me that my gravy’s not fuel efficient. Hell, there’s more nutrition in one lump than in fifty tubs of margarine or a bushel of pasta salad that they serve in the Congressional lunchroom, I hope to shout.
Continued on page 55
Wooery Opens To Rave Reviews
(Ridgway) The nation’s first full-service wooery is now opened and appears well on its way wooing its already burgeoning clientele. Offering private and group wooing as well as woos to go and woos to stay the wooery saw some 3000 persons enjoy being wooed over the weekend.
“We saw a need, a demand, if you will, and we went for it,” said one certified wooster. “No matter what the weather or what the economy people will always pay to be wooed.
Toole Lands on Neptune
(Colona) Astral traveler and daredevil munitions enthusiast, Melvin Toole, 98, has reportedly made a successful ascent to the planet Neptune. According to a spokesman here Toole called at about 4:30 pm to tell friends and well wishers he had safely landed there.
Apparently the trip, political twists aside, went well with no surprises or breakdowns. The actual time of the flight is difficult to determine since Toole stopped most nights and took side trips to historical markers and tourist spots. He said he felt refreshed and relieved after weeks crammed into a tiny space capsule without clothespins or hair oil.
“Right now I’m looking for a nice decal for my suitcase,” he joked. I came here looking to make contact with aliens but the only beings I’ve met are nose-picking primates who watch television all day and sprout opinions all over the backs of their legs.
After a few days chilling out on Neptune Toole plans to depart for Uranus and then on to Pluto for ski season.
The journey, paid for by the Queen of Spain, was first undertaken to bring attention to people who have been cheated out of pensions by giant corporations in the past few years. Toole, an employee of Utopia Mart for 37 years was let go moments before he qualified for retirement benefits and a promised pension. Blinking on the job was cited as the reason.
“I worked all my life,” he whined, “and now I have nothing. I needed a little space.”
-Fred Zeppelin