I seriously just watched my husband bring home lawn edging material, cut it and attach it to his Jeep so that it could pass recon tomorrow. You know, because it didn’t pass today. Not only was it the black rubbery stuff you bury to divide your shrubs from your grass, he attached it with Velcro and binder clips to his fender. I kid you not! Jeff Foxworthy has nothing on us with the whole you might be a redneck shtick.
Then there is my mother… She’s upped her walking to 6 miles a day. I’m pretty sure if someone had us race a half marathon tomorrow she would whip my butt. Not only that, she’s been known to walk around Golo at a pretty fast clip carrying a baseball bat. I thought it was for those white vans she warned me about through my entire childhood. Apparently it’s for other nefarious creatures like snakes, raccoons, dogs and the most deadly animal…cows.
I’m totally serious. My mother had delusions of grandeur as a child. One day while she was all dolled up in her best Dale Evans gear she lassoed herself to the wrong side of a fence post. She also managed to a alert the bull. Lucky for me (and my mother but this is all really about me) she was rescued in the nick of time. Her attitude toward bovine creatures has never been the same.
Back to my mother and her weapon. People are starting to notice the bat. She might get someone yelling “Walk softly and carry a big stick!” More often it’s her giggling hysterically after hearing someone say just as they pass her, “Was that a bat?” I just say you should have seen the paddle she used on all those fourth grade students 25 years ago. Boy howdy! That was a big stick!
Speaking of sticks, it wasn’t enough that I stepped on the poor departed bird with my bare feet recently. Today a bird decided to take up residence in my garage. Me being the redneck that I am I grabbed a sand shovel to bang on the bottom of the shelf it was sitting on. The durn thing didn’t budge. I grabbed a loose thin piece of Ray’s left over lumber and eased it toward the bird. It flew. It did not fly out the giant opening that happened to be the size of a garage door. It sit at the top of the molding of the garage door. Kids are crying and carrying on, “It’s gonna die! You’ll squish it!” Folks, I had a package to mail and I was not going to wait a second longer. Worst case scenario was going to be bird guts but I thought the odds were in my favor. More likely I figured was bird poop and maybe dead geckos? I pushed the button. We waited and held our breath from the van. Just as I thought the bird would hang out for another battle it swooped out like it intended to play chicken with the van right at my head. Arleigh and I both ducked.
Tonight my kids are running through the neighborhood with bare feet. Their only fear is stepping on sleeping grass. Ice cream sandwiches will be our desert and it looks like the sun might shine tomorrow. It’s looking like a good night to be a redneck.