Here is Sarah....
And here is her rap...(I apologize in advance for any potentially crass language and for inside jokes that I won't bother to explain because it would take too long.)Planting full speed, headin towards a branch
my shovel in my hand, I smell pretty rank,
All that I see through my safety glasses
is thunderheads, dirt, and planter's asses
Gonna turn up the music just to keep me company
help me focus on whats coming up in front of me
I can't stop sweating, it's in this savana
Rockin a Canadian flag as a bandana
Wonderin' is anyone flagin behind me
First they'll have to get over the mounds of dirt that blind me
Leaving a trail with no leaner's in sight
Want to stop but can't to scratch my itchy bug bites
My shoulder straps undone, my bags are full
Wish I could plant faster but my hamstring is pulled
Going to plant till the top
hope I don't hit the rocks
my bags are empty so now gotta walk
Chorus:
There's no other job like planting all day
no other job like planting all day
yo there's no other job like planting all day
I wonder when we're going to get paid
Where did the time go
I want more sleep
Maybe if I stay in my tent and don't make a peep
I may be sore but I need to pound
hoping that there's more cream to be found
I pack my lunch with the food on the table
hoping eating on the block I will be able
Can I eat it? We'll just wait and see,
but if i drink too much I know I'll have to pee
The lunch treat is out it hasn't been stolen
Everyone is up though their eyes are looking swollen
Put your bags in the truck, grad you shovel and water
You better rehydrate because the weather's getting hotter
Call me lazy, call me a slacker
but at least I'm not a f*#!in tree packer
There's a whole lot of plots and they need to be done
I'm glad I'm not a crew boss cuz I would do none
(chorus)
I want to learn to pound just like the vets
You may be hittin 2 but you still get no respect
wish I could hit 3 and plant super fast
but for right now there's a stick stabbin my ass
The grass is really tall, it's over my head
When it's raining cats and dogs you'd rather be in bed
You hear yellin in the distance, you know it must be Dave
but soon he will be drowned out by a hail wave
The end of the day you're sitting in the trucks
cursin and swearing about your rotten luck
When you get home to dinner its more ground beef
and even when you're sleeping you still find you screef
It's amazing how little we get per tree
but looking back, there's no place I'd rather be
And when the season's over and we go our separate ways,
we'll look back and remember the sweaty shitty days
Party nights we'll remember all the fun we had
waking up in post offices, heart to heart, and Brad.
As it happens, writing songs can keep you from losing what little sanity you may still have while on the block. The following is a rap that was written at the worst point in our season.
Here are some of the miniature disasters that led up to it so hopefully you can see why we were a little down and out (I've already mentioned some of them):
- Lightning struck crew
- 3 Crew bear evacuation
- Dehydration collapses resulting in hospitalization
- Truck crash...add in another hospital trip
- Mentally unstable camper who was eventually fired (some of you might know him as the one who tried to burn his tent down at 5am)
- 30 Days straight with rain and or hail storms
- Case of pinkeye (not me!) and 2nd degree sun burns
- Injuries and flu "epidemic"
- A treerunner walked off the job
- Our supervisor, subbing for the treerunner, broke two ribs
The following is the result of these events:
When I pull up to the block and the land is really crap
Wanna sit in the truck, wanna just take a nap
But the crew bosses are hounding me
Though the land will be pounding me
So I put on my boots and bags
Still can't see those bloody orange flags
Every tree takes an eternity
Bags are full, I'm still not free
Would like to take a cache break
While the planters in the land bake
Man, I'd rather jump in a lake
Chorus:
Everyday everyday pounding away
Everyday everyday wearing me away
X2
This whole season's been cursed
Feeling sorry for Tim Hurst
From injuries and psychos
to truck crashes and Edson rows
Broken ribs aren't the best
Burning tents certainly make a mess
Pretendonitis, precipititis,
Surely party night can fix this.
(chorus)
When it's finished, all said and done
We are the winners, the ones who got along
Pounding for freedom is the way to go
Slacking off won't work, this much we know
1,2, 3, 4 million trees later
We're the ones getting paid here
We've built forests on such land
That's made us cry and demand
Fourteen cents per tree at the very least
Getting that from Weyerhauser's like trying to slay a beast
(Chorus)
So good luck to you all in keeping your sanity
Living life out of a tent might increase your misery
But we've met good people
We've all had our fun
Now it's time to finish up and finally enjoy the sun.
That's all of an update for now and sorry I don't have audio recordings of the raps. One last thing for the record; we do have a lot of mentally trying days while treeplanting and every day is a physically trying day but it doesn't mean they're all bad. In this season's case, most of the good days were right towards the end once we'd moved to Sunchild camp in the Brazeau area. Land, weather, and camp all improved at that point so we ended our season on a high note. Thank goodness for that.
xoxo,
F
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