The Battle

It was such a nice looking day outside, as I peered out of my bedroom window, that I had an irresistible urge to go for a walk. I usually walk for about an hour, and try to keep up a good pace. I was losing weight, slowly, and I could picture this becoming a normal, every other day activity, hopefully for the rest of my life.

As I opened the garage door to begin my stroll I felt the wall of heat. Or should I say the wall of heat felt me. It wrapped itself around me like I was standing in front of the oven, cooking a turkey, with the oven door wide open. Well, that's not entirely true, because there was also the humidity, which immediately went to work on my sweat glands.

Talley-Ho! I was going to drop some pounds this morning! I turned left at the end of my driveway and began the hike. It is an hour long process starting at my front door, and winding throughout my community, out past the middle school, where both my daughter and son will be going next year. The path then turns right and heads towards the elementary school, before turning right again and winding back to my house. I don't know how quickly I'm walking, but I would gauge it's nearly three of four miles.

I would only get to the end of my street, just barely into the walk, before I realized something else. My lawn needs to be mowed, and how. Damn! I was looking forward to this walk, so much so that I never even thought about the lawn until just now. What a disappointing turn of events. I reverse my path and head back toward the house. I reason that I may as well mow the grass, which is good exercise, instead of just walking to get the exercise. I have come to like walking, but I still detest mowing the lawn.

The lawn mocks me as I return to the garage. The lawn has four days of rain, out of the past week, to back it up. It also has the 97 degree temperature with about 98% humidity as part of its defenses. It will be a battle, but it is one that must be fought.

Thankfully, I do not have to run to the gas station before this lawn mowing day. There is just enough gas left in the container to fill the mower, and the gas station trip can wait till next time. The mower starts up after a couple of cranks on the pull cord and I begin the hour long chore.

I quickly note the new location of our ever wandering fire ant mound. I'm not sure if you're familiar with fire ants, or not. I was not aware of them until I visited Odessa, Tx. during my college years of the late 80's. It was there I ran into the aggressive, little buggers. Fire ants are evil. They sting with impunity, and once they start they do not stop until their prey is down, or they have perished in the attempt. They are merciless creatures.

I was playing golf last year, at a course nearby my house, and I hit my ball onto the edge of the tree line. I had no idea I was about to be ambushed. I walked in, hit my chip shout out into the fairway, and was walking out of the woods when I looked down at my bare legs. There were hundreds of ants on me. They were making their way up my legs, and it was at this point I made a nearly fatal mistake. I swatted a few of them with one, hard, SLAP!

Apparently, when one fire ant begins to bite and sting she sends out hormones, or something, to alert her sisters that it's feeding time. I found this out rather quickly as every ant on my leg seemed to simultaneously sting me. I was flailing around with my arms and legs in a feeble attempt to rid myself of this new, completely unexpected, form of torture. The guys I was playing golf with were no where near me, but they commented later about thinking it was odd that I was hitting myself, repeatedly, while jumping up and down.

I almost passed out shortly after I was able to stop the brutal attack. I'm not allergic to these things, but I guess over a hundred bites in fifteen seconds may be almost too much for the human heart. I sat in the shade and thought about life insurance. I also thought I need to make sure I look at where I am walking from this point forward. Lesson learned.

The fire ants in my lawn are believed, by me, to be the same fire ants that I have waged war against since moving into this house five years ago. I use a chemical to drive them off, and they do disappear for a little while, but sure as rain they'll be back, popping up in a new place in my yard. You can imagine this is a huge pain in my ass. I make a note to myself to treat this ant mound as soon as the lawn is mowed.

I get my son's help with the lawn. It's his job to clean up the toys, dog ropes, and whatever else has accumulated over the past week. He's on the computer and is reluctant to get up. What an interesting development. I ask him if he would rather mow the lawn and I'll clean it up? He moves a bit more quickly after this question. He's a good boy, and he means well. He is a very nice kid, and being small has had to deal with bullies, and his older sister, his entire life. He's very bright. He scores well above average each year in the standardized tests the school forces on the kids. But, when it comes to school, or household chores, or much of anything that does not involve sitting in front of a computer or television screen, he just doesn't like to try very hard.

In that regard he is a lot like his father. I was the same way as a child, and some would say, correctly, as an adult too. I remember my dad just looking at me as if to say "what in the hell are you doing?". I catch myself giving Sam that same look about once a day. My poor boy. He's a thinker and a dreamer, and not so much a doer. If I had the choice I would much rather be a doer. I think they probably make a lot more money in this world.

The lawn was a bear today. It is so very hot, hazy, and humid. I was almost finished mowing, and I was just left with the front, right side of my lawn. I was going back and forth, first pushing the mower, and then pulling it backwards myself to start another row. As I pulled the mower back I stepped down into the street, and I heard it, just before I saw it.

The sound of the car was roaring over the sound of the mower. It was so close that I barely had time to look at it. I turned my head to the right, and could see it was an older model, goldish- green in color, and it had a white top. It was right in front of me and it was going to hit me.

I have heard that your entire life passes before your eyes right before you die. Well, that must happen when you are DEFINITELY going to die, and not when you THINK you are going to die. My only thought was "you dumbass" as I was sure I had just done what I constantly preach to my kids NOT to do. I had walked into the street without looking. Luckily, I suppose, there was NO car. It was an hallucination. It was so very real that I actually turned off the mower and just stood there for a minute.

That experience was a new one. I'm not sure what to make of it. Was it the years of taking hallucinogens, back in college, that finally caused a full blown, underwear filling, flashback? Possibly. I have no idea. I'm surely glad it wasn't real.

Fire ants have nothing on LSD.