Mowing Day
The moon waxes fatter and fatter in Fence Post as burning days pass and the debris of Randy Renter continues to float up to the surface after every rain.
Johnny Woodman brought his Bobcat and blow torch over while I was gone and has started taking apart the last three vehicles--two truck beds and a front half of a small truck--and loading the metal onto his trailer for redemption at the nearby scrap metal place. I ask him if he was making out well enough to make it worth his effort and he said he is getting about 200 dollars for every load. He's been for the last couple of weeks trying to pass a small rough edged pebble through the soft tender insides of his urinary tract so his side work project of helping me clean this place up has suffered some from that.
The over the counter pain killers aren't doing much and my left caliper and lower ball joint are causing me some discomfort but I only mention that in passing so that I can say I would never mention it to a man with a kidney stone.
I did not desire to travel with a box of shit this time so the cat is coming and going through the hole in the floor and is so far apparently taking care of her business outdoors.
It rained here while I was gone so the neighbors' grass, which was brown when I left, has turned green and now while I sit here the sound of their mowing and weed-eating reminds me of the guilty pleasure I would feel sitting inside here while they mowed and weed-eated 14 years ago.
Bernadette is here, has set up a North Carolina office, and is using the bathroom door set atop two saw horses as her desk. Danny Claypool has appeared for the first time this visit and is this minute stirring up dust running his tractor with mower attachment over the few blades of grass in my mostly dirt yard. Pebbles ping the glass of Bernadette's corner office. He has only shorts covering his sun burned body and is wearing wrap around mirror shades. His bearded face is so sun burned it would be hard to tell if he had an alcohol flush. He did this mowing the first time I was here as what I thought was a one time favor and him doing it now is part of a play that if accurately written would be mostly pitiful and half the audience would leave at the intermission. Danny, a three time losing drunk driver with revoked license goes to jail just before the intermission for driving his golf cart on the highway.
I don't like going out on the property during mowing day, I don't know why, I just never have.
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