31st July 2023
It was one of those days when I felt like I should book myself into a assisted living facility. Maybe my attention was somewhere else, but my first experience whilst we we were riding our bikes to the tile shop where I was going to pay the invoice for the work recently done in the kitchen.
Now a bit of background. Many houses along the south shore drive are where the rich people live, they can’t be bothered to do any gardening themselves, so they hire in contractors to do the grass cutting and tree trimming. They also have vast green lawns that are kept watered by underground sprinklers. These are timed to operate at different zones.
By the time we are up and ready for our bike ride most of the watering on these lawns have finished, but today we were a little earlier.
As we rode down the pavement there were various wet patches where the narrow strip of grass between the pavement and the road get watered. Normally I see this as a challenge, timing my speed to miss the sweeping jets. This is what I thought I had done today. I should have known better because Kelli left the pavement and went on the road. I could see the wet pavement ahead, and it was too late to deviate. The first jet hit me on the leg, not very hard, quite refreshing really, the second did the same. This is when the third, forth and fifth hit me at a much higher level. I was soaked, the whole side of my body from my head to my feet was soaking. My sunglasses were covered, I could barely see out of them. I had to look as if nothing had happened in case anyone had witnessed the scene, but Kelli’s hysterical laughter would have given it away.
As we rode on and my left side started to dry out, we came across a patch of wild flowers next to the road, in the middle of which was, as I thought, an old woman dressed in black, on her knees in a prostrate position.
After passing, and to make sure I wasn’t overheard, I said to Kelli, “Do you think she’s praying to Mecca?”
“Huh?” She said, I repeated my remark.
“ That was not an old woman, it’s a carved black bear”
“Are you sure?” I said.
“Yes, it’s a carved bear”
And that’s exactly what it was, from the other side it was a carved black bear crouching down, but to me, it was still an old woman praying, although the short stubby tail should have given it away.
So on this short journey alone I had struck two embarrassment points easily gaining me entry into the mad house.
The day was not over, later Kelli was tempted by a free curved bench, I agreed to go and collect it, I think I still had water in my ear.
It was solid, made from a whole tree it was almost impossible to move. The shape also added to its difficulty to hold and to balance.
It must have been a spectacle for the neighbours to watch. We kept changing positions, lifting it, then swapping ends, it was like a wrestling match, that we weren’t winning.
Somehow we did get the better of it and the Toyota had to bare the extra weight again.
We weren’t sure exactly where we were putting it, but agreed that we should reverse the truck over the front lawn and take it in by the side gate. Now Kelli is not the best at reversing, she started off okay but started to divert, ignoring all instructions by me to correct her positioning.
I gave up and let here do her thing.
Pulling the bench out of the back of the truck, it hit the ground with a thud. It would have been easier to move Stonehenge.
Finally after dragging the monolith into the back garden, we righted it in front of the hostas, somehow during the positioning to the bench I inadvertently stepped into a fresh pile of dog shit, that was the last straw.
Kelli said I looked like I was doing a rain dance, shaking my fists towards heaven and shouting obscenities, I was mad.
Kelli suggested that I didn’t use any power tools today just in case, I guess she is right.