Dig It

[rejectomorph]

Stumbling around the kitchen, getting an orange for breakfast, I heard noise in the back yard. Squinting my bleary eyes against the light, I saw my dad digging, leaning with one hand against the fence for balance while holding the shovel in the other hand. He has partly dismantled a low, wooden retaining wall which supports a planting bed at one end of the yard, and is digging holes for new posts. Apparently, he has decided that it is time for the wall to be replaced. OK. But he's going to be 94 in a couple of months, and can't get around without the aid of an aluminum walker. How does he expect to replace the part of the wall which is not next to a fence on which he can lean? He just has way too much ambition for an old guy. It was only last year, when his sense of balance began to get really bad, that we finally got him to stop climbing to the top of a teetering stepladder to prune the cherry tree. Hell, I get wobbly on that stepladder! Maybe he'll lose interest in the project, and go back to fiddling with the innards of the car he no longer drives anywhere other than up to the end of the block and back. That usually kept him out of trouble. I suppose I ought to be glad he hasn't decided that it's time to re-roof the house.

Gradually, the heat is creeping back. It will probably break 90^o for the next couple of days. But the nights are remaining cool, and it is no longer muggy. It is normal August weather once again, the sun falling through vacant sky and soft afternoon breezes bringing the scent of dry grass. I can deal with that. I'm a bit surprised that we've gotten through this much of summer without any fires, particularly given the abundance of brush generated by the rainy spring. Perhaps all the arsonists and careless campers and smokers have been kept indoors by the appalling heat. Or maybe they all decided to vacation in Portugal.

Comments

sounds like my grandfather

[swerve.livejournal.com]

My grandfather didn't stop playing tennis until he was 90 or 91 (he's now 95). He was 89 the last time we played. I suspect that someone had to intervene, and that the messenger was not greeted warmly.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't sympathize with him, though, and with your neighbor.