289
R. Linda:
I was talking with a "follower" recently by email and we were discussing parallel universe scenarios in the telly series LOST, and it got me thinking of one you and I shared recently. I thought I should write about it, and how close people can be without really knowing it.
There I was, flipping the hammock over to get the weekly debris out of it, when I heard the screen door open and slam and footsteps crunching down the walk toward me. I sat in me hammie, iced tea in hand ready for a cool, refreshing sip as I gently laid back to take in a day of relaxation. I closed me eyes for a second, but could feel a shadow looming over me. I cracked open one eye, raised a brow and looked up to see who was blocking me sunlight, it was Tonya. Hands on her hips, she stood there looking down at me. I noticed she had a plastic bag in one hand and a weed puller in the other.
"No, no mister, YOU are going to help me get the veggie garden ready for planting," she said laying the bag and puller in me lap.
"Ohhh," I whined like a five year old.
"That's right. Up and at em' Gabriel. And fix that chicken wire will ya. See if you can straighten it back up. I'll take the boys with me to the garden centre to pick up the plants while you ready the beds."
And off she stalked, calling our two younguns' away from the sandbox. I reluctantly got meself into a sitting position as the garden tool fell to the ground with the plastic bag. I looked down at them thinking, WHY ME? It's her garden, WHY ME? I sighed. Then it hit me, there was nothing to be done for it, I did after all volunteer back in February to help with the veggie garden. ONLY because at the time, she was upset I forgot our anniversary and I was trying to think of all manner of things to make it up to her. SIGH.
Meanwhile, in Colorado, Rita Punta was making her way down the street checking on the law and order of the yards on her beat when she came upon one yard in particular that had a mass of weeds growing up to the front door and a fence that had seen better days. Armed with a ruler, Rita opened the squeaky gate and walked in. Her eyes squinted from the bright sunlight, she waited for them to adjust. Then carefully, she put the ruler in a vertical position on the ground measuring the length of el weeds. OVER SIX INCHES, hijo de la chingada! She moved further into the weed infested yard and once again put the ruler to the weeds.
She clucked her tongue in annoyance and shook her head in disbelief.
"Some people," she muttered taking out her violations pad and pen.
"HEY, HEY YOU, what are you doing in my yard?"
Rita turned towards the woman standing behind the screen door. She was very short and besides the reddish hair standing on end in tufts, the orange crocks were the only other part of her Rita could distinguish. Rita smiled, or more like sneered in the homeowner's direction.
The woman inside saw the sneer and muttered under her breath, "cabron," and out she came.
"Que' onda? What's up?" The short woman was quite startling in appearance as she made her way toward Rita who was sizing her up. She was dressed in baggy shorts and a mans blue jacket that was too large for her, a jacket if I saw it would have looked familiar. Anyway, in her hand was a huge slab of chocolate cinnamon fudge, freshly made and a wooden spoon, obviously the spoon she stirred the confection with.
Rita snickered. Oh this was going to be fun, here she was pad with weed and fence violation at the ready, and this woman was going to bribe her with homemade fudge. Well, think again Shorty, Rita thought, I am partial to Mojitos and little else.
"I see your yard is unsightly. I am Officer Rita Punta of the Weed Police and I am serving you with weed and fence violation for an unsightly yard. Your weeds are over six inches tall, therefore, you either put the fudge down and get weeding or I will be forced to fine you for everyday that goes by those weeds are still here AND that fence either gets fixed or comes down."
"But that fence is old and we use it for a haunted Halloween decoration." Shorty said looking all put out.
"I don't care, Mrs. . . . what is your name?" Rita said ripping off the violation and handing it the be-fudged short person.
"Egduf, Mrs. Egduf."
"Just get it cleaned up Mrs. Egduf. I'll be back to see if you have it done, and if not, that warning will become a fine." And off she stalked through the squeaky gate, high weeds, rickety fence and onto the next weed strewn yard.
Mrs. Egduf stood with fudge, warning, and wooden spoon in hand watching Rita saunter off. The expression on her face was like that of when one has been given a glass of hemlock to down. Huffing, she walked back inside but not without jamming a huge chunk of the chocie fudge in her mouth for comfort.
Meanwhile, in New Hampshire, I was bent over the garden. Two plastic bags filled with weeds (mostly invasive bittersweet), were laid to the side as I continued to hack and pull at them. It was like they were cemented in place. I'd pull and get a long leafy section of bittersweet but the stem would be still in the ground. Not enough of it I could get a hand round and pull it out, no I had to DIG it out. It was time consuming and laborious and me back was killing me. But I continued on, the hammock swaying emptily in the breeze as if calling me, "Gabe, Gabe, come back, it's nice over here . . . " I sighed and backed up catching meself in the chicken wire fencing. I started to lose the weeds I had just pulled and swung back around to catch them and as I did, I lost me balance and fell sideways, listening to me shorts rip as they got caught on the chicken wire.
The sun was high, Mrs. Egduf was sweating up a storm as she pulled what seemed like ten acres of weeds. Every once and a while she'd sit back, stare at the yard still to be weeded, and it didn't look that big, but as she sat there, sun beating down, it seemed to expand well beyond ten acres. "Sheesh!" She said to herself shaking her head. Here she could be in the cool inside of her house chowing down on fudge and enjoying her soaps and all those wonderful commercials, but now because of that Punta woman, here she was getting a suntan she didn't want. With a sigh she pulled a massive clump of saltcedar and backed into a group of invasive toadflax which tickled, and as she tried to keep her balance, Mrs. E fell over a rock (one she had moved a day ago and now must move again), onto a patch of prickly cheatgrass.
Back in New Hampshire, I had skinned me knee and ripped the seat out of me shorts. I sat there for a minute dazed, looking at me knee as me hand automatically reached for me iced tea glass. I put it to me lips to find it was empty! Even the ice cubes had melted and dissipated from the heat of the day. "Well, that's just great. Just GREAT!" I shouted to meself. Suddenly, I felt something odd, firey bites on me backside. I was like WHAT? WHAT? WHAT IS THIS? I flew up and found I had fallen into a mound of fire ants or red ants to you.
Meanwhile, back in Colorado, Mrs. E was laid out flat on the ground among the cheatgrass looking up at the broiling sun. And just like me something dark cut a swath of shade before her eyes, a thin swath. She lay there looking up at it as her eyes adjusted to find a Yellow Bellied Racer standing over her. Okay not standing but you know snake standing. Her eyes got big for a moment and then with one swift movement her right hand flew up and she had the snake by the neck, well the part near the head.
Back in New Hampshire I was dancing around and hitting me backside with me garden gloves trying to remove the small biters as best I could. They were winning the battle as I tripped over the chicken wire pulling it up with me and finding as I struggled with both ants and fence I was wrapping meself up quite tightly in the wire. Thoughts of being bitten to death and Tonya and me wee boyos coming home to a dead daddy wrapped in chicken wire was, well . . . a horrifying thought.
Meanwhile back in Colorado, Mrs. E had hold of the wiggling snake and with one full swoop of her arm sent it flying across the road to the vacant lot filed with cactus and more weeds than Mrs. E ever wanted to weed. She stood there a minute when a WAIT A MINUTE MOMENT came over her. With resolve and determination she made her way into her abode and picked up the phone and Punta's warning citation, but not before she had cut a block of fudge and took a bite.
Back in New Hampshire I was screaming like a girl, yes I was and I didn't care who heard me. If I had presence of mind I might have thought twice about that because I could hear racing feet coming up me driveway and a familiar voice yelling me name. I opened me mouth to say, "Over here," but got a couple of ant bites on me tongue that sent me into howling convulsions, forget the screaming, the pain in me mouth was intense as I spat the wee buggers out and was in a fit that they had reached me face. It was Lois, me flasher neighbour come to me rescue.
"OH MY GOOD GOD IN HEAVEN! GABRIEL . . . OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD . . . "
I was like "Stop oh my Godding and help me woman!" Finally, she bent down getting bitten herself because I have to tell you we had a large number of angry fire ants on us both. She was hopping around and at the same time had entwined her fingers in the fencing and was trying to pull it from around me ant bitten body, but at the same time she was swatting at the ants on her! This, caused her to get her foot caught in the fencing and down she came smack on top of me already hurting bod.
"GET OFF!" I shouted, the air almost gone from me lungs, the bites starting to fester.
"I CAN'T!" She shouted back kicking at the ants and the fresh turned soil trying to get them off her and stamp them out at the same time and all this action did was bind her tighter to the chicken wire she had partially unwrapped meself from, and get her caught up with me. The two of us were grounded quite literally as we both struggled. I was near exhausted from it, but she was chicken wire captured and bitten and had a lot of fight left, and this made it worse for yours truly who was not along for the ride and I found no joy in it, let me tell ya that much.
Meanwhile, in the sunny southwest.
"That's right Ms. PUNTA," Mrs. E was saying into the receiver, thinking how aptly named Rita was. "I have weeded more than half my front yard and I see the lot across from me is not weed free. I noticed that when the wind blows the seeds from those weeds come drifting my way. I am going to put in a complaint with the city about this. How can I possibly keep the weeds down in MY yard if the stuff across the way keeps floating on over unchecked? I suggest Ms. PUNTA you get your weeding gloves on and get doing something about our little problem across the way. And Ms. PUNTA? I have the city regulations listed on the inside page of the local phone book, and it clearly states that any abandoned or non-buildable lots should be maintained in order to keep the rest of the neighbourhood looking clean and tidy. Furthermore, I have the section on Colorado Invasive Weed Control here and it says, the local government is responsible for the destruction of such weeds as saltcedar, toadflax, and oh my goodness me Ms. PUNTA but a long list of western weeds that have no business in my yard, but are freely thriving there."
Meanwhile Lois and I had collapsed, well we were already flat on our backs when I heard the crunch of tyres pulling up the driveway. By now I couldn't talk because me tongue was so swollen all I could do was drool. Lois though, did manage to shout and Tonya came running followed by the two wee ones.
"OH!" Tonya said pulling up short at the sight of me, once again, entwined around Lois. She turned to usher the two boys into the house, as I heard the Airport asking, "What is Da doing with that lady?"
"Never you mind O'Hare, just take your brother and stay inside."
Several minutes later, the two of us moaning, and rather out of it, I heard Tonya returning. I looked up through me puffy eyes to see she had wire cutters. She didn't look happy. I don't know which was more frightening, being bitten by fire ants, being rolled up in chicken wire with me flasher neighbour, or the the sight of Tonya wielding wire cutters.
Mrs. Egduf sat in her comfy chair, a huge pan of fresh choice fudge on her lap, a large piece of it in one hand, the TV remote in the other, commercials sounding in the background as she looked out the window. The fan had blown the curtains out of the way so Mrs. E's view was unobstructed. There across the street, all vetted up in hazmat gear was Rita Punta, weed killer tank in hand, spraying away when suddenly Rita jumped and a familiar shape raised itself up scaring Rita so much she inadvertently backed into a tall cactus. Mrs. E chuckled at the sight of Rita hopping around clutching her back, the spray going everywhere and the snake slithering off. Yes, fudge was good to Mrs. E and so apparently was revenge and life.
I wish I could say the same for meself, but life was not at all satisfying by the time a cursing Tonya had cut me and Lois apart. Lois did apologise to me for not being more of a help, and she did thank a silent and seething Tonya for cutting her loose. She limped away rubbing her arse as she went. As for me, I found meself sitting in the ER being treated for ant bites. Me whole body was swollen and puffed out like a marshmallow man. I was bathed in antiseptic cream and me tongue was so big they were icing it to bring the swelling down. And I be told by Tonya that once I be fit, I will be back out there, supervised this time, with no help from Lois. I wish I could explain Lois was not with me until I got taken over by the ants, but with me swollen tongue and fingers, communication was not mine to give. SIGH.
Gabe
Copyright © 2010 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
I was talking with a "follower" recently by email and we were discussing parallel universe scenarios in the telly series LOST, and it got me thinking of one you and I shared recently. I thought I should write about it, and how close people can be without really knowing it.
There I was, flipping the hammock over to get the weekly debris out of it, when I heard the screen door open and slam and footsteps crunching down the walk toward me. I sat in me hammie, iced tea in hand ready for a cool, refreshing sip as I gently laid back to take in a day of relaxation. I closed me eyes for a second, but could feel a shadow looming over me. I cracked open one eye, raised a brow and looked up to see who was blocking me sunlight, it was Tonya. Hands on her hips, she stood there looking down at me. I noticed she had a plastic bag in one hand and a weed puller in the other.
"No, no mister, YOU are going to help me get the veggie garden ready for planting," she said laying the bag and puller in me lap.
"Ohhh," I whined like a five year old.
"That's right. Up and at em' Gabriel. And fix that chicken wire will ya. See if you can straighten it back up. I'll take the boys with me to the garden centre to pick up the plants while you ready the beds."
And off she stalked, calling our two younguns' away from the sandbox. I reluctantly got meself into a sitting position as the garden tool fell to the ground with the plastic bag. I looked down at them thinking, WHY ME? It's her garden, WHY ME? I sighed. Then it hit me, there was nothing to be done for it, I did after all volunteer back in February to help with the veggie garden. ONLY because at the time, she was upset I forgot our anniversary and I was trying to think of all manner of things to make it up to her. SIGH.
Meanwhile, in Colorado, Rita Punta was making her way down the street checking on the law and order of the yards on her beat when she came upon one yard in particular that had a mass of weeds growing up to the front door and a fence that had seen better days. Armed with a ruler, Rita opened the squeaky gate and walked in. Her eyes squinted from the bright sunlight, she waited for them to adjust. Then carefully, she put the ruler in a vertical position on the ground measuring the length of el weeds. OVER SIX INCHES, hijo de la chingada! She moved further into the weed infested yard and once again put the ruler to the weeds.
She clucked her tongue in annoyance and shook her head in disbelief.
"Some people," she muttered taking out her violations pad and pen.
"HEY, HEY YOU, what are you doing in my yard?"
Rita turned towards the woman standing behind the screen door. She was very short and besides the reddish hair standing on end in tufts, the orange crocks were the only other part of her Rita could distinguish. Rita smiled, or more like sneered in the homeowner's direction.
The woman inside saw the sneer and muttered under her breath, "cabron," and out she came.
"Que' onda? What's up?" The short woman was quite startling in appearance as she made her way toward Rita who was sizing her up. She was dressed in baggy shorts and a mans blue jacket that was too large for her, a jacket if I saw it would have looked familiar. Anyway, in her hand was a huge slab of chocolate cinnamon fudge, freshly made and a wooden spoon, obviously the spoon she stirred the confection with.
Rita snickered. Oh this was going to be fun, here she was pad with weed and fence violation at the ready, and this woman was going to bribe her with homemade fudge. Well, think again Shorty, Rita thought, I am partial to Mojitos and little else.
"I see your yard is unsightly. I am Officer Rita Punta of the Weed Police and I am serving you with weed and fence violation for an unsightly yard. Your weeds are over six inches tall, therefore, you either put the fudge down and get weeding or I will be forced to fine you for everyday that goes by those weeds are still here AND that fence either gets fixed or comes down."
"But that fence is old and we use it for a haunted Halloween decoration." Shorty said looking all put out.
"I don't care, Mrs. . . . what is your name?" Rita said ripping off the violation and handing it the be-fudged short person.
"Egduf, Mrs. Egduf."
"Just get it cleaned up Mrs. Egduf. I'll be back to see if you have it done, and if not, that warning will become a fine." And off she stalked through the squeaky gate, high weeds, rickety fence and onto the next weed strewn yard.
Mrs. Egduf stood with fudge, warning, and wooden spoon in hand watching Rita saunter off. The expression on her face was like that of when one has been given a glass of hemlock to down. Huffing, she walked back inside but not without jamming a huge chunk of the chocie fudge in her mouth for comfort.
Meanwhile, in New Hampshire, I was bent over the garden. Two plastic bags filled with weeds (mostly invasive bittersweet), were laid to the side as I continued to hack and pull at them. It was like they were cemented in place. I'd pull and get a long leafy section of bittersweet but the stem would be still in the ground. Not enough of it I could get a hand round and pull it out, no I had to DIG it out. It was time consuming and laborious and me back was killing me. But I continued on, the hammock swaying emptily in the breeze as if calling me, "Gabe, Gabe, come back, it's nice over here . . . " I sighed and backed up catching meself in the chicken wire fencing. I started to lose the weeds I had just pulled and swung back around to catch them and as I did, I lost me balance and fell sideways, listening to me shorts rip as they got caught on the chicken wire.
The sun was high, Mrs. Egduf was sweating up a storm as she pulled what seemed like ten acres of weeds. Every once and a while she'd sit back, stare at the yard still to be weeded, and it didn't look that big, but as she sat there, sun beating down, it seemed to expand well beyond ten acres. "Sheesh!" She said to herself shaking her head. Here she could be in the cool inside of her house chowing down on fudge and enjoying her soaps and all those wonderful commercials, but now because of that Punta woman, here she was getting a suntan she didn't want. With a sigh she pulled a massive clump of saltcedar and backed into a group of invasive toadflax which tickled, and as she tried to keep her balance, Mrs. E fell over a rock (one she had moved a day ago and now must move again), onto a patch of prickly cheatgrass.
Back in New Hampshire, I had skinned me knee and ripped the seat out of me shorts. I sat there for a minute dazed, looking at me knee as me hand automatically reached for me iced tea glass. I put it to me lips to find it was empty! Even the ice cubes had melted and dissipated from the heat of the day. "Well, that's just great. Just GREAT!" I shouted to meself. Suddenly, I felt something odd, firey bites on me backside. I was like WHAT? WHAT? WHAT IS THIS? I flew up and found I had fallen into a mound of fire ants or red ants to you.
Meanwhile, back in Colorado, Mrs. E was laid out flat on the ground among the cheatgrass looking up at the broiling sun. And just like me something dark cut a swath of shade before her eyes, a thin swath. She lay there looking up at it as her eyes adjusted to find a Yellow Bellied Racer standing over her. Okay not standing but you know snake standing. Her eyes got big for a moment and then with one swift movement her right hand flew up and she had the snake by the neck, well the part near the head.
Back in New Hampshire I was dancing around and hitting me backside with me garden gloves trying to remove the small biters as best I could. They were winning the battle as I tripped over the chicken wire pulling it up with me and finding as I struggled with both ants and fence I was wrapping meself up quite tightly in the wire. Thoughts of being bitten to death and Tonya and me wee boyos coming home to a dead daddy wrapped in chicken wire was, well . . . a horrifying thought.
Meanwhile back in Colorado, Mrs. E had hold of the wiggling snake and with one full swoop of her arm sent it flying across the road to the vacant lot filed with cactus and more weeds than Mrs. E ever wanted to weed. She stood there a minute when a WAIT A MINUTE MOMENT came over her. With resolve and determination she made her way into her abode and picked up the phone and Punta's warning citation, but not before she had cut a block of fudge and took a bite.
Back in New Hampshire I was screaming like a girl, yes I was and I didn't care who heard me. If I had presence of mind I might have thought twice about that because I could hear racing feet coming up me driveway and a familiar voice yelling me name. I opened me mouth to say, "Over here," but got a couple of ant bites on me tongue that sent me into howling convulsions, forget the screaming, the pain in me mouth was intense as I spat the wee buggers out and was in a fit that they had reached me face. It was Lois, me flasher neighbour come to me rescue.
"OH MY GOOD GOD IN HEAVEN! GABRIEL . . . OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD . . . "
I was like "Stop oh my Godding and help me woman!" Finally, she bent down getting bitten herself because I have to tell you we had a large number of angry fire ants on us both. She was hopping around and at the same time had entwined her fingers in the fencing and was trying to pull it from around me ant bitten body, but at the same time she was swatting at the ants on her! This, caused her to get her foot caught in the fencing and down she came smack on top of me already hurting bod.
"GET OFF!" I shouted, the air almost gone from me lungs, the bites starting to fester.
"I CAN'T!" She shouted back kicking at the ants and the fresh turned soil trying to get them off her and stamp them out at the same time and all this action did was bind her tighter to the chicken wire she had partially unwrapped meself from, and get her caught up with me. The two of us were grounded quite literally as we both struggled. I was near exhausted from it, but she was chicken wire captured and bitten and had a lot of fight left, and this made it worse for yours truly who was not along for the ride and I found no joy in it, let me tell ya that much.
Meanwhile, in the sunny southwest.
"That's right Ms. PUNTA," Mrs. E was saying into the receiver, thinking how aptly named Rita was. "I have weeded more than half my front yard and I see the lot across from me is not weed free. I noticed that when the wind blows the seeds from those weeds come drifting my way. I am going to put in a complaint with the city about this. How can I possibly keep the weeds down in MY yard if the stuff across the way keeps floating on over unchecked? I suggest Ms. PUNTA you get your weeding gloves on and get doing something about our little problem across the way. And Ms. PUNTA? I have the city regulations listed on the inside page of the local phone book, and it clearly states that any abandoned or non-buildable lots should be maintained in order to keep the rest of the neighbourhood looking clean and tidy. Furthermore, I have the section on Colorado Invasive Weed Control here and it says, the local government is responsible for the destruction of such weeds as saltcedar, toadflax, and oh my goodness me Ms. PUNTA but a long list of western weeds that have no business in my yard, but are freely thriving there."
Meanwhile Lois and I had collapsed, well we were already flat on our backs when I heard the crunch of tyres pulling up the driveway. By now I couldn't talk because me tongue was so swollen all I could do was drool. Lois though, did manage to shout and Tonya came running followed by the two wee ones.
"OH!" Tonya said pulling up short at the sight of me, once again, entwined around Lois. She turned to usher the two boys into the house, as I heard the Airport asking, "What is Da doing with that lady?"
"Never you mind O'Hare, just take your brother and stay inside."
Several minutes later, the two of us moaning, and rather out of it, I heard Tonya returning. I looked up through me puffy eyes to see she had wire cutters. She didn't look happy. I don't know which was more frightening, being bitten by fire ants, being rolled up in chicken wire with me flasher neighbour, or the the sight of Tonya wielding wire cutters.
Mrs. Egduf sat in her comfy chair, a huge pan of fresh choice fudge on her lap, a large piece of it in one hand, the TV remote in the other, commercials sounding in the background as she looked out the window. The fan had blown the curtains out of the way so Mrs. E's view was unobstructed. There across the street, all vetted up in hazmat gear was Rita Punta, weed killer tank in hand, spraying away when suddenly Rita jumped and a familiar shape raised itself up scaring Rita so much she inadvertently backed into a tall cactus. Mrs. E chuckled at the sight of Rita hopping around clutching her back, the spray going everywhere and the snake slithering off. Yes, fudge was good to Mrs. E and so apparently was revenge and life.
I wish I could say the same for meself, but life was not at all satisfying by the time a cursing Tonya had cut me and Lois apart. Lois did apologise to me for not being more of a help, and she did thank a silent and seething Tonya for cutting her loose. She limped away rubbing her arse as she went. As for me, I found meself sitting in the ER being treated for ant bites. Me whole body was swollen and puffed out like a marshmallow man. I was bathed in antiseptic cream and me tongue was so big they were icing it to bring the swelling down. And I be told by Tonya that once I be fit, I will be back out there, supervised this time, with no help from Lois. I wish I could explain Lois was not with me until I got taken over by the ants, but with me swollen tongue and fingers, communication was not mine to give. SIGH.
Gabe
Copyright © 2010 All rights reserved
