A couple of days ago I noticed a neighbor of mine, “Joe,” carrying old tires up the muddy road. Now that was interesting, taking them to the road instead of away, so I hiked up the driveway in the melting goo to see what was going on. What he’d been doing was remarkable.
Whenever a vehicle churns its way through the mud, the tracks make a sort of channel for the runoff. This is great as far as it goes, but as soon as someone else comes through, the impromptu ditch gets blocked again. In order to keep the water off as much to one side as possible, Joe had taken a shovel to the most promising water-carrying ruts and brought them together, channeling the bulk of the water down the west side of the road. The tires were a stroke of genius, as he was laying them out so drivers wouldn’t wreck the drainage system.
Upper Llano diversion canal
We’re coping pretty well now, except that neither the newspaper girl nor the garbage truck driver are willing to risk coming this far up the road. It’s a lot better, too, thanks to the New Mexico sun and the efforts of a couple of stalwart volunteers. Yup. When Joe was gone, I suited up and hit the mudworks myself. In fact, I’ve spent the last two afternoons playing in the mud. Today I even did some grading with the hoe, knocking the ridges back down into the ruts and breaking up the clay, so it will dry faster.
How I’m draining the driveway
Oh, it’s a grand thing. Now if only the neighbors on the lower part of the road would do their part — but they’re terrorized by the devil dog!
The most universally ignored law in these parts — and that’s a BIG category — would probably be the one requiring dogs to be tagged and kept confined. One such unvaccinated, free-roaming miscreant lives somewhere in the vicinity of the muddiest curve between us and the good road. Her “owner,” if that’s the proper term, has another dog that stays eternally chained in a bare circle of dirt in front of the house and barks when you walk by. The devil dog, however, barks incessantly, and she’s never confined. Here’s a picture of the beast stalking me a few days ago:
Welcome to the real New Mexico
Because the newspaper delivery girl is afraid to hump her Honda through the slop, she puts the paper, securely tied inside a plastic bag, beside a stop sign about 100 feet from where the above photo was taken. My wife gets up early, while the mud is still frozen, and walks down the road — past the devil dog — to retrieve it. At least she did, the first couple of times. For four straight days now the dog has gotten to the wrapped newspaper first and carried it off. Joe told me that he put his muddy work boots outside the door to his trailer, and the animal stole those as well!
“I know the girl who lives there,” he said. “She works at Wal-Mart. I’m gonna go tell her she owes me a new pair of shoes…
Comment by John K
1 February 18, 2008, 8:45 am o'clock |
That story literally made me laugh. One of your best.
You’re in a good mood.
Comment by John H. Farr
2 February 18, 2008, 9:48 am o'clock |
What feels good is a sense that things are shifting. It’s more than just the new car.
And thank you!
Comment by K.J. Webb
3 February 18, 2008, 3:42 pm o'clock |
Your pen is always sharp on the subject of mud, John. Add dogs and you become one eloquent son of a bitch. This thing about dogs and newspapers…. The bastards used to run after me in the old days of the paper route. I loved whacking them smartly about the muzzle with a rolled-up “Reporter-News” as they lept for me on my bicycle or motor scooter. My father - a mail carrier - always had a strap ready to administer judgment as he went his appointed rounds. It was an early lesson in the meaning of law. It ain’t law if it can’t be - or won’t be - enforced by the state. Self-help - vigilantism, I guess you could call it - has to fill the breech when the stuff on the books doesn’t translate to the peons in the trenches. Bemoan it if you will, but that’s how life works on terra firma.
I have these arguments with a high-minded friend of mine. He says that law is what’s written down and what we ought to live by. Nope, I say, you’re deluding yourself if you think it’s anything other than what the secular powers - the police and the courts - are able or willing to enforce. I learned that at 5:30 A.M. on innumerable mornings spent battling canines with the weapons at my disposal.
Comment by GravelPit
4 February 18, 2008, 8:55 pm o'clock |
On a darker note: These dogs are being abused-What with the cold that arrives each evening there. Call Stray Hearts, and say that I said to call. Someone’s gonna get hurt.It may be the animals, it may be you or your wife; but these dogs are being abused and a chain around the neck is NOT a humane way of dealing wit it.
We had a dog last winter, frozen to the ground. When we attempted to lift him (with plenty of warm water and a pry-bar), he broke in half. NOT a pretty sight.
The owner claimed he was “Buhddist” and it’s just “the cycle” of life. Maybe someone should have squirted HIM with a hose and left him to the elements. See how HIS cycle played out… I’m sure that the Buhddah would understand.
It’s a wonderful place to live but there’s some real fucked up attitudes there. Drop down the shelter some morning and see. Goddam it, now you’ve got me started.
PS-Just spent a few days down Taos way… Other than some dirty shoes, it was gorgeous as usual.