Keremeos

I went to the work zone in Oliver and found a few jobs in Keremeos and Cawston area so I took down some numbers and left town. Accidentally finding a shortcut to Cawston, talking a long windy narrow road through the mountains. It was so beautiful... Im starting to like taking accidental routes.

So, four days in a cherry orchard in Keremeos. Small little town, for the most part nice but I may have continuing problems at the grocery store because my "backpack" (small purse) is to be left at the service counter. And because I refuse to be the only woman who cannot carry her purse in the grocery store. And no, it is not the size of a backpack. 

I started working for a man named, Narinder. Very nice guy to work for. We went to pick the last of the late cherries and for the first time found myself working with a crew. Not 5 people but like, a lot. Mostly angry french men. But the odd old "non french" canadian guy who is always in battle with the swarm of french.  And of course the young, new, slow cherry pickers like myself who always band together to fight off the yelling swearing french and non french old men. And Bruno. who is not old, but is young, tanned all to heck, tattooed and pink mohawk, but just as angry. There is always some people who show up early and pick the bottoms off everyone's trees and get busted because they are the only ones with 15 buckets at 5:30 in the morning. And the battle begins.  I spent much of my…. actually, all of the four days jumping around row to row cleaning up the tops that no one bothered to pick. Its a dirty job and Im slow as it is, so not much money being made. But it does score brownie points. As Narinder wants to keep me on because he wants to work with "good" people. :D  Take that, Sonny.

I've been staying at the farmworkers camp by the river in Keremeos. Its rocky and super hot, but the river is clean and peaceful and a nice way to cool down. The camp mostly consists of hippy farm workers but a few of the serious pickers, (ei: old angry french guys) And is generally a great place for free, a little noisy at night but oh well.  Mikey was the first person who greeted me there… british I think? and he invited me out to the fire that they have everynight :) But I've been sick and antisocial so I haven't gone yet.

Its been a bit of a struggle finding places with wifi, good coffee, open later then 2pm or 5pm, veggie meat and almond milk. But organic produce! yay! So I've been bouncing around a lot, in a cafe/restaurant with no wifi drinking bad coffee to charge my phone and laptop so I can sit in a parking lot to a place with wifi but no outlet that has closed at a ridiculously early time of the day. And eating a low protein diet of cheese buns and peaches.  

So, as I sit here today, in an outdated 80's restaurant, drinking coffee and eating shredded hashbrowns, I look around and can't help but be reminded of my childhood. It reminds me of a place my dad used to go for coffee. I only went with him a few times, but I will always remember it because of the fancy clock that they had there. It was a rectangular box with a clock on one side and local advertisements flipping one by one on the other side. I remember it because I was bored all to heck sitting there while my dad drank coffee and chatted with God knows who. Im sure the entire time I stared at the flipping ads and counted how many times it completely rotated. I remember once I was there very late… Im not sure why, but I was tired and was laying down but I still stared at it flipping. So in this place with brown wicker lampshades, taxidermy on the walls, metal framed chairs, wood panelling and country radio station quietly playing from behind the bar…. I spot it. There it is, up above the beer cooler behind the bar. the flipping clock. Although its dead and stuck on both 8:00 and D.K truck centre, Osoyoos. Im still staring at it, and I wonder, when it flipped its last ad.