My normally hardworking husband had this passionate and funny reaction to what I thought was a sweet NFB movie (circa 1955) about potato picking in the St. John River Valley: It is a gross misrepresentation of how potato pickers felt and were treated. We never would have ridden on top of the digger. How dangerous is that! And to this day I attribute the fact that I hate fall so much to having to pick potatoes. The changing of the colours meant we had to get up at 4:30AM, work until 6PM and do it all again for 2.5 weeks except Sunday…and then we had to go to church and kneel some more. Is there anyone we can sue for all this pain and anguish?? Haha…so THAT explains this annual scenario at our house: Heather (grinning): “Wow…look at the gorgeous colours!” Don (blank stare): Bah. I’ll have to rake. Heather (skipping): “This air is so-o-o crisp & invigorating!” Don (grimacing): ??? Heather (resolutely): “I feel energized! I think I’ll colour-code the spices!”” Don (prone): Thank God for football. Heather (bouncing): “Don’t you wish we could have fall ALL year long?” Don (defeated): If I had known this about her before I proposed…
Posted on: Thu, 07 Nov 2013 20:12:54 +0000
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