One Night In Kemptville - Pt. 2
Later that night, after a change and a shower, Noelle prepped to sing her tunes soulfully to a bustling crowd at the Branch, and we did a quick run though of our Strawberry Wine duet on a rainy Clothier Street. The show went off without a hitch, and I spent a lot of it on the back patio of the Branch with a ton of pals. Miranda gave me gift certificate to Vertigo records. Drinks were bought for me by both my pal Kathy and Joel. John Carroll and Tia and Bruce talked about the changing music industry. Ben Mullin showed up with his lady Heather, and as usual, they brought some laughs with them. Ben has one of the heartiest chuckles going. Brad and I talked about music and how our friendship had changed so much in one year. We also found some random fan of both of our bands (Brad Sucks/Graven) online and marvelled at the weirdness of that. Zoe came and brought smiles. And as per usual, Amanda, Carey and Polly were in the thick of the social event, being their bright, happy selves. When the show ended, we all decided to move to Zoe's lovely backyard pad, and bonfire building and drunken trampoline jumping ensued. I tried jumping with Kathy for about 5 jumps, and had to get off 'the boozy rollercoaster that was my brain'. As Joel and I drove away, I sent texts of gushy love to everyone involved with the night, and we hit the cottage driveway at about 3:45 am.
I passed out immediately, and awoke to Joel's mom saying 'Good moooorning' loudly and warmly in the cottage about 5:50 am. I heard Joel's gravely voice and movement from another room, and the two of them started prepping. I finally woke up at about 6:30, knowing the truck was coming at 7, and I felt decent, but also sort of like a bag of smashed assholes. With the combined nature of a physical week of work, being involved in a show, and a massive lack of sleep - and oh yes, alcohol - I was not at my best.
Regardless, I was outside in minutes and found that Joel's mom had recruited a few family members and neighbours to help out and so there were about 7 of us involved in the whole concrete operation. I was sweating already, knowing that this would be one hell of a day. While Joel decided that being at the bottom of the chute would be easiest, he sent his mom and his uncle Bob down there to smooth out the wet, grey slop. As the truck showed up at about 7:45, four of us had wheelbarrows and the top of the chute and had to walk about 30 steps from the truck to the chute with full loads of teetering, stoney sludge. It seemed easy enough. I began to feel more confident as I calculated the odds.
What I didn't account for was the fact that as I walked across the bumpy terrain with my barrow full, I had to run up a small wooden ramp, with a good amount of speed, and then push the barrow forward to dump it and almost fall off a cliff. On my first attempt, I got halfway up the ramp, saw the edge and felt the momentum of the wheelbarrow, and lost control - letting a full tub of goopy pavement hit the grass. I began to sweat profusely as commands from Joel's mom and neighbour were flying at me about 'my technique' and what I could do better. I barked back at them quickly, in my hungover tired, angry state, and said something to the effect of 'TOO MANY CAPTAINS AND ONLY ONE SHIP!'
This day was going to be one fuck of a bear.
