Sitting So Patiently

When I moved into my present domicile (that's not it behind me--that my cabin!), I purchased a power saw. With the saw came instructions on how to build saw horses—an important component for saw use. I envisioned building cabinets and desks and chiffonieres. The saw horses I built were crooked and basically unusable. Now, I hire out all construction. By the time my dear friend, Gary, built the cabin (Walden, we call it), I had long given up the saw, the power drill, and most screw drivers.

I also bought an awl and hatchet for cutting wood. I bought cords of wood (I never quite learned of what a face cord of wood consists). For several wintry months I trudged outside, split the wood and carried them into the house where I never learned to build an adequate fire. In a recent remodeling, I had a gas fire place installed. I can control it from the couch by remote control.

I also acquired a riding lawn mower. I sat atop it wearing my Che Guevera tee shirt. I spent hours riding lugubriously back and forth across my law, shearing off the heads of many dandelions, a few sprouting trees, and much natural grass. I call it natural grass because it blew in rather than was planted. It is an accidental lawn, for the most part. As I write this I await the newly hired lawn maintenance people to manicure my lawn. They do a wonderful job; even my daughter said, “Gee, the sidewalks are even clean. When you mowed the lawn you left all the clippings on them.”

The myth of the self-sufficient man died easily here. Good riddance, I say.