Friday, June 3, 2011

Fence Foolishness

Ewwww, ick, yuk!  What just happened to me should never happen to anyone in the world!  I went out back to water the plants and lo and behold, Cambridge had laid a “pile” in the tiny garden patch—next to one of the jalapeno plants.  (I hope he bites into one of the peppers sometime—maybe then he’ll finally learn to stay out of there.) 

The creature who got me into the mess.


Anyway, after watering, I figured, “Well, I guess I’ll see what else has been dumped (pun intended) in the yard.”  So I picked up the doo-doo hand shovel and the old plant pot it’s kept in and proceeded to make the rounds.   


Don't worry, that's rust on the shovel....


 Thankfully every pile I came to was pretty old and dry.  That was a good thing.  (You’ll understand why later on….)  It was still malodorous though—don’t think for a minute it wasn’t!  After a thorough stalking of the yard, it was time to head to the back fence to throw the foul stuff into the woods. 
 
Now the fence has a personality.  I know that sounds weird, but it's true.  It’s an old wooden fence, silvered by the weather.  The Man has been systematically bolstering up the rotting fence posts the last couple of years.  Yeah, this fence has been around a while.  Those years of standing guard between our backyard and the woods have apparently given it ample time to devise devious plans.   It’s a calculating, sneaky old fence, that’s what it is.  The top is about even with my head—maybe a little higher.  As I mentioned, there are woods behind the fence.  When doing yard work, it’s convenient to throw weeds, tree debris, fallen leaves, etc. over the top and into the woods.  



Fence trying to look innocent by holding a pretty pot of flowers.  

 Well for some reason, I have a rather shameful record of clearing the top of the fence with whatever it is I’m trying to throw over.  It’s not that I’m weak or that I don’t know how to throw-- I did play softball on the church team for several years, you know….But something strange happens in that back yard.  I can’t tell you how many times I have  launched a stick or a bunch of weeds up into the air with the intention of having it clear the top of the fence and sail into the woods, only to have it hit the top of the fence and bounce right back into the yard.  Then I have to scuttle over in embarrassment, pick it up and shove it over the top wondering all the while if the neighbors witnessed my lame attempt.  Now that it’s happened so many times, I assume they have a running joke in the houses on either side, “Oh there she goes, trying to throw something over the fence again!  Ha, ha, ha!  Let's watch it hit the fence and fall back into her yard.  What a ninny that woman is.”  
That’s why I think the fence is no normal inanimate object—I figure it must be stretching itself at the last moment when the airborne item is ready to pass over the top.  It enjoys toying with me.  So today—you already know, don’t you?  Yep.  I marched right over to that fence, holding the doo doo filled pot gingerly by the edge.  The arm went up, the planter was tipped, the doo doo should have flown into the woods ….BUT NO, IT DID NOT FLY INTO THE WOODS!  Some weird magic made the planter do some kind of odd bounce as it hit the top of the fence, and all the doggie doo doo smacked into the fence with enough force to then bounce back at me!  I felt the chunks hit my left arm (and of course I was wearing short sleeves).  Yep.  It was like this:  swoosh (smooth movement of left arm swinging pot up to top of fence), then bang (creepy old fence interference), then plunk, plunk, plunk, as pieces bounced back and hit my arm.  NOW HOW DISGUSTING IS THAT?  I believe I heard a hollow, splinter-filled chuckle coming from those gray boards.... The worst part is that no one really thinks the fence has a perverted desire to make me look like a fool.  They actually think I make a fool of myself with no outside assistance!  Uuuugh.  It’s maddening. 
Needless to say, I ran into the house for a thorough washing.  I can’t believe that just happened.  I’m so disgusted—with the dog, myself, and that creepy, old fence. 

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