LDKBox

IT is raining in Texas.   Wow, we sure needed it!  We are in a three year drought.  My lawn has suffered but my back has been eased because lack of water means the lawn does not grow.  It will now… so the back will soon be suffering.  LOL! 

The rain allowed my battered body a little reprieve from the exertion of walking Kellen to school.  I feel like a mixed martial arts competitor that lost a fight the previous  night.  Luckily,  I do not have a black eye and with luck,  I will finally have that distinctive half moon scar above my right eye.  Although it most likely will heal with little or no scarring what so ever.  I don’t know why I always wanted a scar on my face.  With a half moon scar above the right eye what were they going to call me….Scarface?   I don’t think so.  Cow jumped over the moon face…no.  Half moon face…no.   It probably is just as well.  What good is a scar if one does not have  a good story to tell about how tough and dangerous your life has been?  IT is not like I fought off three attackers while delivering a baby and helping a little old lady across the street…All at the same time.  No,  that is not what happened.  It is not like the military veteran who without regard to his personal safety fought and saved a village in a foreign country without weapons by  taking gun fire from agressors and shielding others with his own body while he quickly and methodically permanently erased all the agressors from the village.  No that is not what happened either. 

IF your a regular reader of this blog you will already be informed as to the situation that I am referring.  Namely going head over handle bars on my bicycle yesterday.  I was so relieved to see it raining this morning.  That meant that I did not have to walk or ride to school with Kellen.  I can walk with relative ease but I do not want to do much since my toes are sore and my shoulder is a little tender as well.  The ride in the rain with Kellen to grade school and Jonathan to High School  allowed me to see the different ways the neighbors enjoy the rainy weather.   There were a lot of cars at both schools because of the weather.  then I observed the walkers that despite the weather were doing what they do.  Go to school.  Some had jackets with hoods, others used a newspaper for temporaryshelter of the rain while waiting for the bus.  Still others who simply ignored the rain and shuffled on to Buffalo despite the dreary weather. 

This brings to mind the days after school of my youth.  A September day which has the smell of harvest permeating the air.  The latest cutting of hay laying on the ground.  Each farmer chomping at the bit to get into the field to bring in the harvest.  The corn fields are quickly turning from the beautiful emerald green to the golden autumn color which will appear soon ater the first frost.  On those days coming home seemed boring.  Work has ground to a halt.  Only the tractor that feeds the cattle will be operated today.  With the hired men confi9ned to the farm yard there is little need of a ten year old boy.  So with five buckle boots on each foot, my father’s well worn full length rain jacket slightly dragging in the Iowa mud, and my Mother’s favorite garden hoe this tenyear old went out to the yard to divert the water so it would drain all the little puddles into one big one.   Little did I know that my innate ability to find the low spot of the yard would soon get me in big trouble with my Father.  Boy did I have a good time.  When my Father finally saw what I was attempting to do he had a minor melt down.  HE started waving his arms as soon as he got out of the car.  I did not realize,  when I first spotted him,  that he was upset.  I really thought he was happy to see me.   So I waved back.  Instead of invoking a smile it brought about even more frantic movement from my Father’s arms.  Now this motion I understood.  IT is the international parental sign meaning “WTF”!!! 

It was the best of times…. moving mud is fun…To the worst of times…paying for moving all that mud.  How was I to know that we did not need extra water to go to the low spot of the yard?   My Fatherexplained it to me between wacks to my butt that the yard did not need my help to make it worse.  “Ya but..”  I said to him.  Not much else would come out of my mouth.  I got a pretty good lickin that day from my Dad.  Yet it is somehow worth it now that I remember all of the little details of the moment.  On one hand you have a ten year old boy that had the best intentions in mind.  A ten year old that had a memorible  experience re-dedicating drainage from one area to another with the intent of doing something that was not only good but it was adventurous as well.  Because I felt that I had discovered the headwaters of the Missouri or the first to find the Northwest passage.  All the men that worked on the Hoover Dam did not have anything over this adventurous litle boy.   My Father also explained that I did not need to dig a trench through the high spot of the yard because the movement of the water would cut through the soil and cause erosion damage.  If now were then, I would attempt to try to convince my Father that what I was doing was just what the men of  the Erie Canal did but with erosion.  Yes,  I know it would not work  but I would give my kingdom to see the look on his face as I try to explain it to him if given the chance to do it again. 

I never did tell my Father what I had intended to do that day.  Like I said all I got out was a “Ya but” and my Father finished the whole thing with a definitive directive to never attempt to do that again.   I never did but seeing the children of Harker Heights, Texas walking and playing as they went to school brought about memories of what fun can be had in the rain.  The other thing that is good is the fact that I have these good memories of being disciplined.  I never did do it again.  But when I finish this blog post try to visualize seeing  a 57 year Father of one eight year old son communing with his deceased Father standing together in the back yard puddle  in the rain creating the new Northwest Passage for Harker Heights, Texas.

Comments (0) Sep 12 2009