Too Much Time Staring at the the Comanche Moon




"It is just a good thing that pesky redskin didn't have four arrows"

   

     To keep my home from fading into the patchwork of mundane homes along the streets here in Kerrville, I recruited the help of my friend, R. G. Box, the artistic Village Blacksmith of Lubbock County.  R.G. suggested I put  some Big Horseshoes in the front yard---he's long on  Big Horseshoes right now.  I told him I wanted something less elaborate and more appropiate.  Like arrows.   I wanted great big arrows like Indians shoot.

     We discussed the problem and settled on three each, thirty foot arrows, buried in the ground at a sixty degree angle.  They needed to look like they were shot by a great big Indian from over by the water tanks across the valley.  I insist it was a Comanche.  No sense getting shot at by some Mama’s Boy Indian, like an Alabama-Coushatta or something.

     Mr. Box made my arrows right there in Lubbock---he is a superb artist with black iron and I brought them home in a trailer attached to my pickup truck and planted them in concrete in my front yard.  Box made a sign for me.  It says, “Look Out For Great Big Indians.”  I bolted it on the stone wall next to the driveway.  Now, if you drive down the street in Kerrville and see a mundane house, you’ll know I don’t live there.

My Lawyer insisted on this and R. G. Box threw it in for nothing

      Every year about this time, I get all involved in Springtime.  Doing all the chores to make a presentable yard is time consuming.  The hummingbird feeder has to be taken from storage and cleaned and refilled and hung in its usual position; the hedges have to be trimmed and weeded; the flower beds have to be dug, turned, and mulched; the lawn has to be mowed, trimmed, and fertilized.  The big arrows need weed-eated around.  The shade trees need to be rested under and iced tea must be consumed.

      All this is demanding labor and I arrange my schedule to allow a big chunk of time to accomplish these necessary tasks.  I hate to do things piecemeal.  I want to get at the job and stick with it and get it over with.  I usually pick a Thursday afternoon in April to get it all done.

      I had the foresight, a few years ago, to devise a master plan for my yard.  I decided to do it in what they call zero-scape.  You probably think I meant say xeriscape.  No, I said what I meant.  Zero Scape.  Let Mother Nature do the work.  I will drink the iced tea and rest in the shade.  I chose this route because of the time constraints I have suffered since retirement.

     To start with, I must go to the gym and work out early each day to stay healthy enough to do yard work.  Then I have to read the paper and check on the Letters to the Editor and see which old person is upset about what.  Then, some days, I have coffee with Tom and Pat at Starbucks or over at the Coach’s Family Bakery.   We need to analyze the idiotic actions of our children and trade recipes for chicken pot pie.  In the afternoons, I have to go to the HEB and walk up and down the aisles trying to remember why I went there.  By the time I get home, I’m just too exhausted to work in the yard.

     This year, Springtime is tomorrow.  I’ll start with the hummingbird feeder because that’ll take the most time.  Next year, I think I’ll clean the sugar syrup out of there when I take it down and maybe it won’t get all gummy and stuck together like it does when left in the garage all winter.  I think I’ll put off all that other stuff.  The arrows don’t really need trimmed around.  Indians didn’t pick manicured spots to shoot at.  Mowing and trimming and digging and mulching and weed-eating and all that can wait a while. I didn’t do it at all last year and my yard looks just fine.