My native land has a windy city, famous for devious political wind as well as roaring gales of a genuine nature, hold onto your seat! In his newsletter, Our Mayor writes of stormy weather blowing down trees and puts in a plug for his arborist friends, blathering characteristically banal advice to His loyal and admiring subjects. Tosh, real men call it firewood! Only Council would say no to someone offering junk up fallen trees for free, preferring to blow the taxpayers dime on contractors.
Meanwhile, we have real men up here in the Wolfville Highlands. If we don't like a tree, we hitch up the truck, fire up the chainsaw, and drop the bugger. Meanwhile, the politician's and planners prance around Downtown, preaching the virtues of a dense population. Well, I guess that when the population gets dense enough, they probably won't be able to drop a tree.
I'd like to thank save-the-weeds-Stead for his handy link to the list of allowable pesticides. Now what can we spray to rid ourselves of the stench of pesky politician's?
Waxing barf, our Mayor closes with his gush to our late great CAO
Roy was a leader in municipal administration whose expertise was often sought by our colleagues throughout the region.
Indeed he was a leader. An expert in fiscal transfer from the taxpayer into bloated bureaucracy. It was nice for Council to have so generously bumped up the salary of this man, the growth of which was barely matched by feckless spending of the previous Council --- that Council being so servile to CAO and Mayor. Meanwhile, thanks be to the advice of luminaries like Roy Stead, municipalities all over our fair province are crumbling. Taxpayers might feel a little peeved that Roy left without extending a personal "thankyou" to each and every one of us. (The Dolphins tried to warn us, and in frustration, they said, so long and thanks for all the fish, before departing, just ahead of a galactic bulldozer driven by bureaucrats.)