Tomi Ungerer was a pioneer for a year

Tomi Ungerer did what I plan on doing in10-20 years. Here today, gone tomorrow. The only difference is I want to do it in NewZealand (most probably I’ll make my Claire-Bear to join us). The book “Far out isn’t far enough. Life in the back of beyond.” is about life, food, nature,hunting, becoming a butcher, neighbors, death, racism on principle, alcoholism, animals and foxing them. The humor is brilliant and illustrations accurate.
“Called Mr Solong to order some hay…
Can I speak to Mr Solong?
He ain’t here.
When can I talk to him?
Don’t know, he’s dead (sob.)
Dead?
Well, yes, he burned in his bed last night, but if you’re calling for some hay you’ll get it all the same.”

“Some days are brittle and little, days for small dabble jobs; snacks replace meals, symphonies are unbearable, and even short stories are too long to read. You putter, mutter, have your hair out, clean old paint brushes, sort out rusty nails from the screws, mend broken dishes, kick the dog.”

“A questionnaire sent out to authors for some kind of reference book arrived. One question was “Hobbies”, I answered: “My wife and butchering…”

“Went down to the barn to decapitate a rooster. With his head chopped off he still keeps on running. Another rooster, a live one, attacks him; a few seconds later the dead one falls dead on the ground. The triumphant rooster is delighted by his victory and crows apoplectically to publicize his glory. How French!”

Tomi Ungerer był pionierem przez rok

Tomi Ungerer zrobił to, co postanowiłam zrobić za 10-20 lat. Jedyna różnica to miejsce, bo ja ustaliłam w głowie, że będzie to Nowa Zelandia. Here today, gone tomorrow. Książka “Far out isn’t far enough. Life in the back of beyond.” jest o życiu pioniera i jego żony, jedzeniu, naturze, polowaniu, staniu się rzeźnikiem, sąsiadach, śmierci, rasiźmie dla zasady, alkoholiźmie, zwierzętach i przechytrzaniu ich. Wszystko ubrane w humor i ilustracje, a na tym T.U. się zna.

“Called Mr Solong to order some hay…
Can I speak to Mr Solong?
He ain’t here.
When can I talk to him?
Don’t know, he’s dead (sob.)
Dead?
Well, yes, he burned in his bed last night, but if you’re calling for some hay you’ll get it all the same.”

“Some days are brittle and little, days for small dabble jobs; snacks replace meals, symphonies are unbearable, and even short stories are too long to read. You putter, mutter, have your hair out, clean old paint brushes, sort out rusty nails from the screws, mend broken dishes, kick the dog.”

“A questionnaire sent out to authors for some kind of reference book arrived. One question was “Hobbies”, I answered: “My wife and butchering…”

“Went down to the barn to decapitate a rooster. With his head chopped off he still keeps on running. Another rooster, a live one, attacks him; a few seconds later the dead one falls dead on the ground. The triumphant rooster is delighted by his victory and crows apoplectically to publicize his glory. How French!”