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Next in the wildly popular 'Muk In Her Native Habitat' series, we explore the quaint riverside village of Sumas, the place our little Muk calls home.
Welcome to Sumas, everyone!
















...uh, yeah. *Ahem.*


Here is the entirety of the downtown core, this street here, looking north with that 'Welcome to Sumas' sign at my back. Twelve tiny little blocks.
Down at the very end, if you look hard, you can see a faint, faint sort of reddish bar that crosses the street? That's the Canadian border.

















Lets take a drive down Main Street, shall we?
OK!
Now here is your typical city block in the downtown core. Both buildings date from the 1920's, both buildings are standing slap ass vacant. Lets stop the bus! Everyone out for a Kodak moment!

















Here is an abandoned titty bar. This is a huge place, too; it goes waaay back there.















Yes, City Hall is housed in a metal utility building. So is the police station. And yes, you're looking at both of them.















Another abandoned building! Right across the alley not 15 feet from the entrance to the police station, it was understandably not the fun filled, whoopin', hollerin' free for all fightin' old west kinda place its name seems to promise. No, in fact, it was a hangout for recent immigrants from Russia and the Ukraine; all 20 of them. Ride 'em, comrade! The white banner proclaims 'this business for sale-agricultural trades considered'. Yes, that's right. The guy who owns a BAR on an international border crossing wants to trade it for a FARM. I'm not sure what this says about the Sumas economy, but it doesn't seem....good.

















Meet Lone Jack. Jack is alone because Jack has been having some proctological issues recently.
What's in the pan, Jack?
No. Don't tell me.
Want to know why I live here? Because of the people. What kind of people? The type of people who would start an international shipping business, house it in an old burlesque theatre with this morphodite squatting out in front...and leave him there. And name the business the only name possible out of all possible names in the universe.
Ladies and Gentlemen, it is with the greatest of pleasure that I give you....
"Ship Happens"
















Youth community service. Get chipping, you little bastards! Hahahahahaha! This is how we school 'em! Put 'em to work chipping yellow paint off the curbs in the hot sun! Stick 'em right out in front of the police station so we can keep an eye on 'em too! That's right!
When I came by five minutes later, Buckwheat on the left was still in the exact same position, pinin' for the fjords.
















Ten years ago there were 23 empty businesses along the main drag. Today there are still ten, not counting empty single offices.
If any town needed a reason to support business, Sumas IS that town.
This would be the business.
This right here is the BEST MEXICAN FOOD IN THE UNIVERSE. The service is superb, the people are great...
So why not lets' us City Hall moo-rons perpetuate a tacit policy of harassment? Why not look the other way while the local police put roadkill in their doorway and on their employees' cars? Why not have them raided just before every major civic event so they have to close down? After all, it's the only restaurant in town that hires people long term, AND stays open seven days a week. AFTER ALL, THEY'RE MEXICANS!! Why not? WHY NOT I ASK YOU?? WHY DON'T LETS JUST BUG THE FUCK OUTTA THEM UNTIL THEY PACK UP AND MOVE TO ANOTHER TOWN AND LEAVE ONE MORE ABANDONED BUSINESS ON THE MAIN DRAG??? WHY NOT PUT 23 LOCAL PEOPLE OUT OF WORK??? WHY NOT FORFEIT THOSE TAX DOLLARS? HAHAHAAHAAHAAHAAHA!!!! GREAT IDEA!!!!!
















First patron of the day.
This old geezer comes buzzing up at the turn of the lock every morning. They 86'd him for being just generally disgusting about three months ago. What he does now is come in early. He sits in the bar, mumbling, occasionally yelling, pissing himself and bothering the staff until they get some customers; then they cut him off and he wheels away, wearing his knitted toque and his grey wool overcoat, shouting at cars.
















Now lets veer off the main drag and amble through the neiborhood.
On our way out to drop off our biodegradable yard waste we find this National Security spy pole, the silver post at the center of the picture with the little goggles at the top.
I see you!
Of course, they see me, too.
Yeah! See this? It's the fat chick! FUCK YOU GEORGE BUSH! CANADA IS NOT THE ENEMY!
















THIS is the community compost pile. See the sign? That's how you tell. It says 'Compost Pile'. It is for the community. To put compost in. On. Whatever.
















Lush, cool and beautiful.

















Here's a bed and breakfast. Although it's in the center of the neiborhood, it backs on a river, and is at the end of a street which backs on a cornfield. Hell, I'd stay here and I live three blocks away.
















The Sumas River running through the center of town. No deer today, sorry to say. Yes, this is what passes for a river here..that barely visible trickle. Dumbass Washingtonians can't tell a river from a crick.
















Oh crap. A trout jumped and I tried to catch it swimming away but I didn't even get a ripple. Anyway, this is the river. See? Water.
Note that I am standing on a bridge on the main east-west thoroughfare through town at high noon, holding a camera with my ass draped over the guardrail.
Um...
Nah. Make of the preceeding sentence what you will. It just might be true.

















I mean, come on. This is the worst place in town. Of course I live next door to it. But you can't even see it!
Betcha they see me, though.
Oh crap! She's taking a picture! Quick! Hide the illudium q32 space modulator!















This is the entirety of town looking east to west, from city limits sign to city limits sign...or at least the low hill in the background there where the 'City Limit' sign is.
What town? I don' see no steenkin' town.













You see what I mean? As soon as you leave the main business center the place is beautiful. People sit out on their front lawns and have conversations. The kids say 'hi' to you. The dogs wag. Yes, everyone is in your shit, but I'm in their shit too so it evens out.
But to drive through the business center of town, you'd think 'Jesus Christ, keep on going; what a goddamn dump".

I may shoot a copy of this via email to the mayors office.

On second thought, maybe not...

Hmmmmmmmmmm.