MARCH 5, 2009
THE WATERMELON GROWING EVIL NEIGHBOR IS BACK IN FULLY INSANE MODE AGAIN.. NEED A PLAN PEOPLE.. CAN YA HELP A WOMAN OUT?
The above photo is the image of a field of about 4 acres maximum, that is located approx. 150 ft. from my front door, across the country road that runs between the two pieces of property. A gentleman of a few more years of age than myself, has decided that this property, which is also located within spitting distance of a new housing edition of some pretty expensive homes.. would grow the most lovely watermelons in the entire world
. He owns a Ford tractor and every known implement made by the Ford tractor manufacturers to attach to the back of this tractor and till up this four acres of extraordinary melon growing soil..
For two years now he has decided to start early in the year preparing this lovely spot of earth, for planting of the watermelons of excellence, with first burning off the entire 4 acres.This of course took place on a gusty day, when we have a burn ban blaring out of every newspaper in the tri county area..
( The country cops which live next door to me and right across the road from this excellent farmer.. apparently didn't see any need for alarm in this.. but when it is drizzling rain .. and my loving Homer sprayed diesel onto the briar's in the fence row.. and no flames were present.. decides to call the fire department on me..)
( note to self.. find out how melon growing man gets the pay offs to the county cops.. then intercept payments and hope he shoots the melon growing neighbor for lack of payment)
I thought I would capture the excellent melon growing farmer in his work of much time consuming and loud banging.. clanging.. and just the roar of the tractor.. for hours and hours and hours on end..so you all can say this fall .. when he appears on The Today Morning Show.. having obtained the honor of Mr. Watermelon 2009..
"HEY I KNOW THAT DUDE!"
The roar is so loud when he reaches the end of the row he is tilling, plowing, discing, or just driving over in glee of anticipation.. I can't hear my television, my radio, my friends, my own thoughts.. but.. I am not one to ripple the pleasant aura of peace in my small neighborhood.. no not me.. not Lockie.. oh no.. I hold my tongue in my cheek until it has permanently grown there.. I now talk .. but no one understands me.. at least that is the excuse I am using when I get off on a rant about this subject and people start skulking away.. smiling.. which is a dead giveaway.. they did not understand me.. or I am sputtering spit all over them...
cowards....
The man started on February1, 2009.... preparing for a crop he can't plant until the middle of April.. Last year he planted them three times.. yes.. count them with me children.. three times..
Why you might ask?
He planted his hills of watermelon seed and it rained so much.. they all washed away.. So,,, he planted them again.. and the mice ate them because there was nothing else out there to eat! He has broken up all of the ground except the yard of the house.. he does not rent out or live in..
He places a long metal folding table out in front of the house in the summer and places little packets of produce he has packaged in old bread sacks..( what other poor person he is torturing with the plot of ground he uses to grow squash, tomatoes, okra, and cucumbers is unknown to me at this time) into piles on this table and puts a metal box with around 3 dollars in coins in it onto the table near a sign which reads..
"ALL SACKS 2.50... PUT YOUR MONEY IN THE BOX AND GET CHANGE IF YOU IT CAN BE MADE FROM WHAT IS IN THE BOX..
.. SERVE YOURSELF"
And the guy cleans up! .... sigh..
If I did that .. either the stuff would rot before anyone stopped, or I would get ripped off so bad I would have to take out a loan to pay off the cop!
But this is not the end of the story.. not by a long shot.. as you can see his weeks and weeks of working this ground into a fine powder, has been very productive.. but now the March winds are blowing .. usually from the north to the south.. Yeah.. my house runs east and west.. so now I have at least an inch of dirt that sifts into every hairline opening my home has in its windows. If you plan on going to the mailbox.. I put on one of those white doctors masks.. he has seen me.. but no reaction .. none.. whatsofreaking ever...
In addition to this.. since he has decided that he no longer needs to plow anymore.. now he is working on the housing edition road that runs along the patch.. apparently he has plowed it up a might in his exuberance..
He woke me up this weekend on both Saturday and Sunday.. using the blade on the back of the tractor and the bucket on the front end loader he recently purchased for it .. dragging gravel out of the ditches .. not scooping up the gravel.. dragging the gravel.. upon to the driveways and the pavement of the county road..( It sounds like he is tearing the blade off of the tractor.. and omg! the front end loader sounds like nothing I have ever heard before except maybe someone dragging their nails across the chalk board. ) until.. he has crumbled the pavement up into the beginnings of some extensive patch work to be done in front of my drive way.. by the county road crew .. not the state.. THE COUNTY! The have no materials and our employees are jail trustees and juvenile delinquents doing community service crew.
HAVE MERCY!
This morning he is testing out his deer deterrent cannon ... you know that little butane powered invention called the critter skeddaddler.. which does not work.. but makes me jump around 2 feet every time it goes off.. last year it was set to go off every 30 minutes.. so far this year he has just been setting it off continuously .. while he tweaks it..
I already have the eye twitch back and I really think I heard myself stutter yesterday.. okay.. I know my friends well.. so just open up your minds to the problem.. and help me .. please.. The the cannon has to go, at least, without getting caught.. I mean last year he asked me to help him watch out for kids stealing his melons at night .. cause he couldn't fight the deer and the kids and make a profit.. so I said okay..
I am such a wuss.. sigh..
This was before he set up the cannon.. and if I say I will help out.. I will..
I never expected anything in return.. honestly.. that is just setting yourself up to get pissed if you do.. but in return for my watching his place and not doing much in the way of complaining about the cannon except to tell him.. it scared me when it went off.. especially at 2 or 3 a.m.. he picked those melons and took them out of the state to sell.. and when I asked how much for one of the ones left as culls.. his price tag was 5 dollars.. in advance.. and he picked out the melon..
The man moved here from a suburb of New York.. and has no Hillbilly manners at tall.. he is one of those... as my grandma called em.. "FURRRINERS" from way up north of us here in Arkansas.. sigh.. the best I have come up with so far involves my shotgun.. a load of rocks and buckshot and blow that cannon into outer space.. but the guy has a video camera set up to watch the patch too! I need input, my gleeful when challenged friends..
COME ON MY YANKEE FRIENDS.. AND REBEL FRIENDS..
HEY.. I AM AN EQUAL OPPORTUNITY ENABLER HERE..
I NEED.....
HELP!
lockerridge
