Sunday, April 26th, 2009
It appears they are both.
If you haven’t noticed, lawn weeds are starting to hit hard. It’s been hot for the past few days and this is prime season for all those ugly critters to take hold in your lawn. I actually just went out yesterday to get a few bottles of Ortho Weed-B-Gone, along with the hand sprayer that hooks up to a garden hose. I sprayed the front yard today and am going to wait to see what that looks like. I’ll let you know.
Since I had the guys at Scotts Lawn Service put down some pre-emergent herbicide, I am sitting here wondering why the lawn is starting to have weeds grow in it. There are some spots with crabgrass, but other weeds are growing as well. The whole thing got me thinking about which lawn weeds are annuals and which ones are perennials.
I found a nice description of the most common lawn weeds over at this website. I’ll put the weeds in a list for you:
Perennial Lawn Weeds
- Dandelion
- Ground ivy
- Clover
- Plantain
- Nutsedge
Annual Lawn Weeds
- Crabgrass
- Annual bluegrass
- Knotweed
I think we pretty much have all of these weeds, so my work is cut out for me.
I know that a lot hinges on how nice and full lawn grass grows. We have a few bare spots that need reseeding, but I can’t do that until Autumn. I am getting a little impatient, but seeding now (with the pre-emergent still active) is a waste of time. Also, seeding in the Summer doesn’t really work out too well. Come September, I am going to de-thatch and aerate the heck out of this place and reseed the whole thing.
Little by little. That’s what they say about lawns and lawn care…little by little and you’ll win the battle.
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Tuesday, February 3rd, 2009
I am going to tell you a little story. Yeah, I thought you would appreciate that, especially since things have been a little dry around here lately. First, I must apologize for not offering any photos of the occasion. Laura has been swearing to me that she took pictures of the whole thing and that I have them somewhere. I don’t know what she is talking about. I can’t find them and I have no recollection of taking them. The best I can do is to paint a mental picture for you, because trust me, the mental picture I have is very vivid.
Okay, let’s go.
A long, long time ago (about 5 years), we lived in a small lake cottage a few blocks from a small lake in New York. It was a tiny, but cute rental. We lived there for three fairly uneventful years. I can still remember the night we arrived at this particular house. We had just driven 5 hours from all the way up in Naples, NY and were totally beat. About an hour before we arrived at the house, I was forced to stop short in the middle of the road while driving the huge moving truck I had rented. I was sitting there with my eyes wide open, reading the big sign on an overpass in front of me that read, “Maximum Height – 11′9″.” Unfortunately, I was driving a truck that was 12′3″. I guess that wouldn’t have been all too bad if I wasn’t towing my car on one of those two wheeled tow dollies. With all those pivot points, backing up wasn’t an option. Even better, I was facing downhill and it was pitch black outside. Let’s just say that it took a good long time to get that situation squared away and there were some mildly annoyed fellow drivers. It was not one of my best memories. I can only imagine how many times I was called an “idiot” that night.
Anyway, we eventually made it to the house, which was good. We parked the truck on the road and slept the night away, only to unpack the next day. Things were fine for about two years.
It was a beautiful sunny spring day. I was walking out to my car on my way to work when I turned around to check out the house, like I always do. It’s just a habit of mine. Well, on this particular day, everything looked fine, except for that small hole in the corner of an attic vent that was facing the street. It was up near the peak of the roof on the front of the house. I thought to myself that I had never really noticed that hole before, but was pretty sure that it had always been like that. Besides, this was a rental; it wasn’t my place to give daily inspections of the building’s exterior. I went to work and forgot all about it.
Upon returning home that evening, I did my thing inside and then grabbed a beer. I remember having no shirt on and walking to the mailbox to get the mail. Just as I got about half way across the front yard, a pickup truck rolled down the road and stopped right in front of me. The guy opened his passenger side window and starts telling me something in an excited kind of way. “Hey man, you got a raccoon living in your attic,” he said. I replied with a, “What?” “Yeah, I was driving down the road this afternoon and I saw a huge raccoon crawling through the little hole in your vent. I have no idea how she got in there because the hole is so small, but I sat here for a good 10 minutes watching her. She finally got through after a while,” he replied. I said thank you and started devising a plan on how to patch up that hole in the vent. I mean seriously, how hard can it be to keep a giant raccoon out of your attic?
Well, let me just tell you that it is a little trickier than one would think.
Before the kind fellow with the pickup truck even made it to the corner of the street, I already had the mail in my hand and was walking across the backyard looking for a piece of plywood. I was going to cut it to size and screw it to the 2″x4″ beams from inside the attic.
Picture this – standing on a table in your living room to push open a small trap door that leads up to a tiny attic in a tiny lake cottage. That’s really not that bad. Now, picture doing this while thinking that an enormous raccoon is sitting up in that attic just waiting to see the whites of your eyes. It’s a little unnerving. The problem was, I had no idea if the raccoon was up there or not. It was the early evening, so I was hoping she was out gathering some food. You know, just as I began pushing that little trap door open, I remembered that I did hear some strange noises a few nights earlier coming from up above me. I just chalked it up to some branches hitting the roof or something.
Laura was in the living room holding my legs as I jimmied up through the trap door. You should have seen my head whipping around in every direction I could think of. There were no lights up there and I was totally freaking out. As every second passed by, I kept expecting to hear a “whoosh” and have 20 claws and something furry attach to my face. As it turned out, the raccoon wasn’t even up there. She must have been outside doing something. I shined the flashlight that Laura handed me all over the place and saw nothing, so I slipped through the hole in the ceiling to screw the piece of plywood over the vent at the front of the house. I was totally confident that this raccoon wouldn’t get through this rock solid piece of wood and that our little raccoon problem was solved.
That night, around midnight, I heard a “bang, bang.” I woke up and started looking around. I walked to the front of the house and heard, “scratch, bang bang.” I really had no idea what in the world was going on, but my adrenaline was pumping and I was ready for anything. I kept hearing this noise as I was standing at the front door and it was coming from above my head. I walked back into the bedroom to grab the flashlight. I opened the front door and walked out to the front yard. As I shined the flashlight up towards the roof, I immediately saw two beady little eyes staring at me. Apparently, the raccoon was trying to scratch, rip, tear and push her way through the vent to get back inside the attic. I stood there in disbelief.
I went back inside to get some clothes on. I kept wondering why in the world this raccoon wouldn’t let this go. Why was she being so stubborn? I went back outside and started yelling at the raccoon, in an attempt to scare her away. All she did was look at me and continued to try to get through the vent. At this point, I was getting annoyed and wanted to end this adventure. I walked to the back porch, grabbed the garden hose and hooked it up. I turned it on and dragged it to the front yard. Now, Laura was standing there and was manning the flashlight. I started spraying the raccoon with the water and she ran across the roof towards the back of the house. I looked at Laura and gave her a smile. No raccoon was going to ruin my beauty sleep. We went back inside to crawl back under the covers.
About 10 minutes later, I heard the same “bang, bang, bang” and sprung to my feet. I am not even going to tell you what we did, because it’s basically a repetition of what we did just 10 minutes before. This time, I went outside and chased the raccoon all over the place, but she just kept trying to get back in that vent. I had enough. I really didn’t know what to do, so we went back inside and lay awake for the rest of the night.
When it was light out again, I went outside to see what kind of damage the raccoon did to the vent. There were a few more cracks in it, but nothing too drastic. I didn’t see the raccoon anywhere, so I held out hope that what we did to her the night before taught her a lesson. If she didn’t want to experience getting sprayed by a hose again, she would find a new home.
I went back inside, got ready for work and left.
That evening, when I got home from work, I found the house and vent exactly as I had left it. I felt very happy that I beat the raccoon at her own game. Laura and I sat around until it got dark, chatted a bit and decided that I would go out to grab some Chinese food to celebrate. You know, it’s the little things in life.
I will remember this conversation for the rest of my days. As I was getting out of the car in the Chinese food place parking lot down the road, my phone started ringing. The caller ID said, “Home” on it, which surprised me. Laura never called my cell phone from home. I answered the phone and I was greeted by a flustered female voice telling me that something was screaming up in the attic. It was Laura and she was jumping from one thought to the next. She said that either we had 20 birds up in the attic, or there were BABY RACCOONS!!! Holy man oh man. Baby raccoons? No wonder that lady raccoon was trying to get back in the attic so badly. I ran into the Chinese restaurant, paid for the food and ran back out to drive home faster than I was supposed to. I figured I should still get the food, even during a time of crisis.
When I pulled in the driveway and got out of the car, I heard a faint squealing. As I got closer and eventually entered the house, the squealing got louder. When I stood in the middle of the living room, the squealing was really loud and right above my head. I put my hands to my face and wondered what in the world I was going to do. It was dark outside and I was really tired from getting no sleep the night before. One thing was for sure; I wasn’t going to live through another night of that momma raccoon banging on the side of the house. Add the squealing of hungry baby raccoons in the attic, and I was ready to move out.
Within a few minutes, I had devised a plan. I would go outside, climb up on the roof and pull the vent down. Then, I would go up in the attic and unscrew the piece of plywood that was blocking the mother raccoon from getting to her babies. This way, the big raccoon would be able to get in the attic to feed her babies and they would shut up. Also, she wouldn’t need to tear at the vent any longer and I would get a good night’s sleep.
I informed Laura that we were going to be getting into some hairy stuff here, so she better be at her finest. She was going to man the garden hose. I walked around to the back of the house, grabbed the step ladder and the hose and brought both up to the front of the house. I handed Laura the hose. She already had the flashlight in her hand. Her job was to spray the mother raccoon if she showed up while I was pulling off the vent. Her other job was to shine the flashlight at what I was working on, so I could see what I was going. It was quite dark up on that roof.
I climbed up on top of the porch and pointed out what I wanted Laura to shine the light at and she did. I began working the vent off the front of the house, while constantly looking below me to see if the mother raccoon was climbing up the porch beams. If I saw the raccoon climbing up, I was going to throw myself off the roof. I know, I know…not a good plan, but I had limited options. Plus, my heart was beating a mile a minute.
Things were going pretty well. I was tugging on the vent and talking to Laura at the same time. I said, “Do you see any sign of the raccoon?” She replied with a, “No.” I was a bit neurotic that night, so I kept on asking Laura if she saw the raccoon. She kept answering, “No” and I was sensing a little annoyance in her voice. I didn’t care, because she wasn’t the one on the roof who was going to get tackled by a crazy raccoon who was trying to protect her young.
I was almost finished getting the vent off the front of the house and I heard the faintest scratch above my head. I shot a glare down at Laura who was standing there pointing the flashlight at me and holding a garden hose. She looked so cute; poor kid. I said in the quietest voice ever, “Sweet doll, please shine the flashlight above my head.”
She did.
I slowly looked up.
About a foot above my head was the mother of all mother raccoons, staring right into my eyes. She was standing on the peak of the roof above me. “HOLY FREAKING MOTHER,” I screamed. Luckily, I had a bit of wit about me and I ran for the ladder instead of jumping off the roof. I climbed down the ladder at record speed and ran to the front lawn to stand next to Laura. I had to jump up and down to shed some of the shakes and adrenaline off of me. “MAN,” I started saying, as we watched the raccoon climb down to inspect the vent. “I have to get that vent off of there or we are never going to hear the end of this,” I said to Laura.
New plan – Laura would spray the raccoon to keep her away from me as I finished getting the vent down. She did and I did. The vent was off. You should have seen that raccoon trying to get to that vent while I was working on it though. Laura showed her good aim that night.
The next thing I had to do was to go up in the attic and unscrew the plywood I put up the day before. This was going to be a little trickier because now I knew there were going to be animals up in that attic with me, as well as a fully grown raccoon on the other side of that plywood.
I crawled up into the attic again. I had my screw gun and a flashlight and was ready to go to work. I made my way to the front of the house, while constantly looking around for those baby raccoons. I didn’t have any idea how big they were, so I was pretty nervous. When I got all the way up to the plywood, I heard some sounds coming from my left, under the overhang of the roof. I shined the flashlight over there, but didn’t see anything. I grabbed a piece of scrap wood that was laying on the floor and pushed some insulation away from the beams. Right then and there, I saw four of the cutest little raccoon heads pop up and look at me. I don’t think they wanted the light shining in their faces, but seeing them sitting there changed the whole dynamic of what I was doing. I softened up and my mission turned from one of war to one of rescue. They looked so helpless. Since they weren’t about to go anywhere and obviously weren’t any threat to me, I started slowly unscrewing the plywood.
(The above video is not of the actual baby raccoons, but of imposters.)
As I was almost finished with the last screw, I lost my silly little grin. I remembered the beast sitting on the other side of the wall with a very determined mindset. I knew what I had to do.
I held the plywood hard against the beams and finished taking out the screw. I held the screw gun in my hand and picked up the flashlight with the same hand. The plan was to move as far as I could away from the board, while still holding it. Then, I was going to run and jump through the hole in the floor back to the living room. After that, I was going to slide the trap door board back over the hole, so the beast couldn’t follow me down through the ceiling.
If you have never seen a grown man scream like a little girl and run across about 15 beams of an unfinished attic and jump through a hole in the floor, you are a lucky person. If you are that grown man, you’re not so lucky. After I jumped through the hole, I landed on the table and slipped off it to land on the floor (on my back). I had to quickly scurry up to put that board back in place before we had one extra mammal living with us. I got the board back in place and ran outside to see if the raccoon went through the hole.
Apparently, Laura had the same idea and gave me a full report as I met her on the front lawn. She said that the minute I let that board down, the raccoon flew through the hole. I remember standing there and how good I felt. It was like I just won the lottery. Then, I remember thinking about how we now had five raccoons in the attic instead of just one. It felt like someone just took all my lottery money away from me.
It was time for a real plan…a plan that would solve the problem.
Laura used to work with animals and had access to really heavy duty animal handling gloves. They were about three feet long and about a half inch thick. These gloves were meant to hold down a mountain lion. If the mountain lion bit, you probably wouldn’t feel it. Okay, you would feel it, but the teeth wouldn’t go through your arm. Okay, maybe they would, but these gloves were really heavy duty.
My plan was to wait until mid afternoon when the mother raccoon was out for the day. Then, I would go up into the attic and screw the piece of plywood back to cover up the gaping vent hole. I would capture each baby raccoon and put them into a cat carrier that we had hanging around. After that, put the cat carrier outside and just wait for momma to come back.
That was the plan and I must say that I executed it perfectly the next day. I think the worst part was that the attic was about 150 degrees then and moving the insulation around covered my bare top half with sweat and fiberglass. It was pretty terrible.
You really should have seen it. I was like a professional animal handler. With the exposed baby raccoons looking at me and the cat carrier open and ready to hold the animals, it was show time. I put the gloves on and started reaching back into the corner of the attic. I grabbed the first baby raccoon and put it in the carrier. You should really see the claws on these raccoons. They are very long and really stick on everything they touch. I can only imagine wrestling with a full grown one. No thank you.
The first three raccoons went into the carrier without incident. The fourth one gave me a little problem. I am assuming that this last raccoon was the big brother of the bunch, because he kept trying to go deeper and deeper into the corner of the attic. He was hissing and being very aggressive. Eventually, he saw things my way and was placed into the cat carrier with the rest of his siblings. Another thing you should have seen was how much fun I had while trying to place each baby raccoon into the cat carrier while there was already one in there. Each time I opened the carrier door, the raccoon that was in there tried to climb out. It was crazy.
After I got the last little devil in the carrier, I beamed a great big smile. I kept the plywood over the vent hole, picked up the carrier and slid through the hole in the ceiling to enter the living room. I walked the carrier outside and sat it down in the shade at the side of the house. I kept the carrier locked, because I didn’t want any baby raccoons walking around without the protection of their mother.
I am sure you can imagine the excitement on Laura’s face when she got home from work that day and I showed her a cage full of baby raccoons. I’m not sure which she was excited more about, not having to deal with the “raccoons in the attic” issue any longer or getting an up close look at these little cuties. She asked what I was going to do with them. I answered that I was going to leave them there just like they were and wait until the mother raccoon returned to get them. We were certain she would be back.
A few hours passed and we were watching TV in the bedroom when we heard something outside tampering with the cat carrier. We ran out there to see what was going on. Well, low and behold, the mother raccoon was tossing the cat carrier around, trying to get it open. She wanted to get at those babies badly. I tried to walk over to open the carrier, but the mother raccoon lunged at me. Okay, obviously our mutual understanding of not harming one another was over. We were enemies once again.
Since I wanted to get this ordeal behind us and I wanted this raccoon family to reunite, I ran to the back of the house again to grab the hose. I came back and handed it to Laura again, with the same instructions. “Spray the raccoon while I open the carrier,” I said. Laura started spraying the raccoon and she backed up into the neighbor’s driveway. Each time I went over to attempt to open the carrier, the raccoon ignored the water and lunged at me. Laura had to keep getting closer to spray the mother raccoon harder. Eventually, I got the cage open and took off. Big momma ran in there and grabbed the first baby. She raced up the willow tree across the street and placed the baby in a “V.” Laura and I walked inside to give her some peace and privacy.
About five minutes later, we walked back outside to see if the mother got any more babies. We were surprised to see an empty cat carrier sitting on the ground. Man, she was fast. We would be resting easy that night.
The next morning, I walked across the street and looked up into the “V” where the raccoons were placed and noticed four small heads looking down at me. What a sight.
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Saturday, August 16th, 2008
Eventually, all blacktop will crack. It doesn’t matter how good of a job the pavement people did when they came to install that beautiful patch of blackness over what once was a nice lawn. It will crack.
“So what, Jay. So my driveway has a few cracks in it. Why should I care?” you say. Well, let me just tell you this…it isn’t going to get any better. Especially if you live where there is a freeze/thaw cycle.
What happens is this; you get a few cracks in your driveway, from people driving on the edge of the pavement, the blacktop shifting, something heavy on the driveway, tree roots rearing their ugly heads or a bunch of other things. It doesn’t really matter. All that matters now is that there is a crack, or a bunch of cracks in your once very pretty driveway. Now that the crack is there, water is most definitely going to find its way in it. In the Summer, this doesn’t matter so much. When it matters most is in the Winter. In the Winter, the water finds its way into the crack and then freezes. When the water freezes, it expands. Do you see where I am going here? Your small cracks get a lot bigger, fast.
“Yeah, whatever Jay. I’ll fix it one day.” Hey, do you know how much a new driveway costs? Well, the longer it is and the more privacy you have, the more you are going to shell out for a whole new deal. Thousands and thousands and thousands. In my opinion, it’s a heck of a lot better to maintain your driveway instead of paying for a new one, as long as you can.
There are a few cracks in the driveway here. There is one area that needed a bag or two of blacktop, but mostly, these are easy to patch blacktop cracks. It’s easy and actually fun to fix them. Here is what I did today.
Latex-ite driveway re-surfacer
I went to Home Depot and I bought a few things. First, I bought some Latex-ite Driveway Re-surfacer. The bucket says this stuff is good for eight years. I don’t believe that. From what I have been reading, it’s best to seal your driveway every two to four years. I also bought a squeegee to spread the driveway sealer out with.
Then, I bought some Latex-ite Trowel Patch driveway crack filler. This is supposed to fill cracks up to a quarter inch. I like to push it, because some of the cracks here are more than that. Mostly though, I think this stuff will do the trick. The crack filler comes in a “loose cement” consistency and spreads like butter. It hardens like rubberized cement. I have to say, it’s pretty cool.
Latex-ite Trowel Patch driveway crack filler
Below is a nice example of a crack that I had to fill in today. It wasn’t too wide and was about four feet long. I would say this is a prime example of what you might expect to see in your own driveway.
First, I completely cleaned the cracks with a garden hose. I sprayed the stream right in there and got all the gunk out.
Driveway crack
After that, I got my trowel and started spreading. I made sure to get the crack filler all the way down in the crack. It didn’t want it just hanging out near the top.
Filling driveway crack
The crack filler spreads on brown, but when it dries, it turns black. Also, if the crack is wide, the filler may shrink when it’s dried, requiring another coat.
Filled driveway crack
The company recommends that you wait at least twenty four hours before you drive on it, do a peel out on it or dance on it. Longer if it’s cooler outside. I guess the hotter it is, the faster the crack sealer cures.
Tomorrow morning, I am going to pressure wash the lower portion of the driveway and seal it. I was told that if you keep the driveway wet when you are sealing it, the sealer goes further. We shall see.
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Friday, July 18th, 2008
Do you know how many people search for “When to steak tomotoes?” I bet a lot. Well, I think I spelled it correctly.
I was driving down the road today and noticed that the neighbor had a bunch of tomato plants growing in buckets, just like me. His buckets may have been nicer, but mine are doing just fine. I don’t even remember where I got them, but let it be known, five gallon buckets are wonderful things.
I have been reading that staking tomato plants is mainly to keep the tomatoes off the ground to avoid fruit rot. Since I am growing the plants in 5 gallon buckets, what’s my reasoning? Well, take a look at the photo to see…
As you may have noticed, they are getting very tall. I started off with little three foot bamboo stakes, but have moved on to 7 foot posts. Every day I look out there, the plants have gotten just a little bit taller. Just to let you know, I also tied the posts to the railing on the porch. When I slid the post in to the bucket, I noticed that it was loose and could easily fall over.
A few weeks ago, before I started staking the tomato plants, one of them fell over. Not the bucket, but the plant itself. Anything can cause that…the weight of the plant, a hard rain, wind, etc… I caught it just in time and started tying them up with soft string I had in the garage. I keep it nice and loose so I don’t do any damage. I bought a new garden hose yesterday and noticed that it came wound in long twist ties. I used them just a few minutes ago as even more straps.
I think many people look into this topic way too much. They ask all sorts of questions about what to use and how to do it. How’s this…just stake your tomato plants so they don’t fall over and use something that is long enough and won’t do damage to the plant.
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Saturday, November 10th, 2007
Oh yeah. Here it is…the moment you have all been waiting for…the funniest thing that ever happened in my life – #1.
What happened to number 3 and 2? Well, as you can clearly see, I have had a little trouble with motivation. I thought I would jump to number one and then follow up with the others later. Trust me, they are almost as funny.
You know the times when you just laugh and laugh? If it’s during dinner, you usually blow milk out of your nose. Yeah, I remember those times. They don’t roll around that often anymore, but when they do, they feel really good. If you get a stomach ache, even better.
Craig owns a tree service. He has probably run it for fifteen years. One of the main problems he has is finding good employees. Things are smoothing out now, but locating good workers has always been a tough hunt.
Early on, it was even harder. Sometimes a customer would call up and want a job done. Craig, being eager to please and equally as eager to make money, sometimes had some tough choices to make. Should he hire a full time professional, or…err…just get the job done. That’s where Rob and I came into play. Can you guess which choice we were? Yeah, we would bust on the scene and clean house.
Oh, how many times we have heard, “I will never work the two of you together again in my life.” Even that statement made me chuckle because I knew I would be standing in his driveway at 7AM the next morning, smelling the diesel burn, while his truck warmed up. In a few minutes Craig would walk out of the house and ask, “Where’s Robert?” I would say, “I don’t know.” “He’s in bed, that’s where he is. Let’s go get him,” Craig would say. I always knew Rob was awake and just running late, but I liked to make waves. For some twisted reason, I always got a kick out of watching Robert get yelled at by Craig. Craig was always yelling and Rob was always trying to explain his way out of it. I really wish you could meet these two guys.
This particular morning was a very nice one. It was summertime and it was a perfect day to work…warm enough in the morning, but cool enough not to sweat all that much. We had a small job to do in Westchester before lunch and then another one across from one of Westchester’s many reservoirs after.
There we were, sitting in Rob’s driveway, honking the horn. “This guy, I swear,” Craig said. “What’s up with Robert, anyway?” I was sitting there thinking to myself, “Why do you call him Robert?” A few moments passed and Rob flew out of the basement door and ran towards the truck. Craig couldn’t stay mad at Rob for too long. I’m not sure anyone can. I hopped out of the truck to give Rob the middle seat. He never complained because he knew how much I liked to sit near the window. Craig put the truck in reverse and we started heading toward Sunoco, down in town, for breakfast.
Craig always bought. He probably still does today. That’s just the way he rolls. I could win the lotto and Craig would still grab the check. This always happened, except for one time when Craig, Laura and I were in Vermont. Craig informed me that I was paying for dinner while he was in the middle of ordering another main course. He and Laura were drunk. She was trying to cut her pork chop, when it flung on the floor (carpet). Craig leaned over and picked it up. He put it on his plate and proceeded to eat it. That is another story for another time.
As usual, Rob and I were standing at the counter ordering our bacon, egg and cheese sandwiches. This guy at Sunoco always made the best sandwiches. This, of course, was before the time when the guy handed Rob and sandwich and informed him that the eggs were “a little gooey.” Rob didn’t like that very much and never ordered another sandwich from that gas station again. This morning was different. We ordered our sandwiches while Craig filled the tanks of the truck and chipper with fuel. What’s wrong with this picture…we order breakfast that Craig will pay for while he works…
Anyway, we hopped in the truck and started to eat. We slowly made a left turn out of the parking lot and headed down the road towards town. Craig always said he didn’t want a sandwich, but continuously asked Rob for a bite of his. This was during the era of “Mustache Craig” and one of the other reasons I liked to sit near the window. Rob would hand Craig his sandwich and I would watch Craig take a big, wet bite out of it and hand it back to Rob. I always watched Rob look at the sandwich…inspecting it to see if there were any mustache hairs in it. Poor Rob’s stomach is easily turned and I’m sure this would’ve been it for him.
I don’t remember the first job all that much. We probably did our thing and got in a fight. That was typical. Craig would scold us in the truck and express the importance of not yelling at any passing cars or people while there was a huge sign with his business name and phone number on the side of it. I guess he was right. We would go eat lunch at some deli and take a nap for a few minutes. The hardest thing was always trying to get up from laying on the ground under some apple tree on the deli’s property. I always dreaded what job was next.
I used to hate the days with two jobs. I wanted to go to one, get it done and leave. I wanted to go home, take a cool shower and then walk out in the road a few minutes later in my nice, clean jeans and no shirt. Craig would usually stumble out of his house a little while later and we would discuss current events. Rob? I am not sure we would see Rob again until the next morning.
We pulled straight in the driveway of the customer’s house, stopped and put the truck in reverse. We backed out to park on the side of the road.
I remember the job well. The house was big and beautiful…typical Northern Westchester. It was white with some stone work. The driveway was a straight incline, aimed directly at the house. There was a large oak tree in the front yard and across the street was a reservoir. Along the road was a row of tall pines. That was our job…to remove some of the pine trees. I am not sure why. Perhaps they were too tall? Blocking the view? Who knows… Yet, we were there to get the job done.
We worked for a few hours until the hard part of the job was completed. I really think we worked well during that portion of the day. There were no incidents. Craig would cut the brush from the tree while Rob and I would drag each branch to feed it to the chipper. It was grunt work…that was part of the problem with finding good employees.
When the big stuff was done, it was always time to clean up. This is what separates the men from the boys. Some companies come to your house, make a mess and leave it there. Real companies leave your place the way they found it, or better. We were a real company.
There were usually some tools we would use to clean up a property…rakes, a big barrel for sticks and a backpack blower. You know the kind of backpack blower I am talking about…it straps to your back and you hold the tube in your right hand and walk around like a tornado. They are pretty fun to operate.
Rob and I would usually race to get to the backpack blower. Whoever got to it first was the lucky one because they could just walk around blowing things off, while acting like some sort of a supervisor. The unlucky one would get stuck raking and filling that awful barrel with sticks and leaves. The heavy barrel had to be emptied in the back of the truck multiple times, which really sucked.
This particular day, I made it to the backpack blower first. Yes, I was the lucky one. Rob grudgingly grabbed the rake and barrel. We worked for about fifteen minutes. There wasn’t all too much to rake up, because the trees were right off the road. This put Rob in a good mood. I just walked around the whole time, happy as a woodpecker, blowing off the driveway and road. We were both eyeing one another, looking for a cue that our clean-up job was good enough.
One of the most annoying things about tree work is wood dust on your clothes and skin. The dust would get on you and make you very uncomfortable. It would make you itch and scratch. The wood dust, mixed with a good dose of body odor, wasn’t much fun. Rob and I, while working with Craig, had a long standing tradition of using the backpack blower to blow the dust off one another at the end of each job. Now, you have to remember that this backpack blower is very strong. If it is pointed at your face, it could make your skin ripple. This day was no different than any other, so I began to blow off Rob’s clothes and hair with the blower.
Rob must’ve gotten drunk the night before, because he did something very odd. Right at the point when I was pretty much done cleaning him off, he bent over and looked right at me. He opened his mouth and told me to point the blower at his face, so the air would fill up his mouth and make his cheeks really big. I guess he wanted to act like a dog, hanging his face out the car window, while driving at 120 MPH. I didn’t really understand why he wanted me to do this, but who was I to argue with Rob, who was just trying to have a little fun at the end of a hard day’s work? The real question was why Rob would trust me to do this. Did he really think I was going to simply point the blower at his face and then walk away without doing anything else? To this day, I wonder what gave Rob the impression that I wouldn’t mess with him. Poor Rob.
I had a little stirring in my stomach as I raised the end of the blower tube up to Rob’s face. I just couldn’t believe that it was actually Rob’s idea for me to do what I was about to do. In neighboring towns, you couldn’t pay someone to let you do what I was doing.
I lowered the throttle and began to lift the tube to Rob’s face. He looked so eager. He thought he was a genius. He had such passion in his soul. His cheeks have never been as big as they were about to be. His eyes were wide. He was just thrilled. I raised the tube and pointed it right at Rob’s mouth. His cheeks immediately filled with air and expanded like a hot air balloon. YEAH, he was doing it…ROB WAS DOING IT!!! He was flying high, higher than he has ever flown. I raised the throttle to full speed and the force of air got much stronger. It was like a rush of water being forced out of a fire hose. If you put your finger right next to the stream of air, you would feel nothing. If you moved your finger a quarter of an inch towards the air flow, your finger would flip backwards. The end of the tube was about a foot away from Rob’s mouth. I am sure there has never been more air in anyone’s mouth in this part of the state. Rob’s cheeks were huge and his hair was blowing around like he just jumped out of an airplane at 30,000 feet.
Then I spit. Right in the air flow.
Yes, you read correctly. Maybe it was Rob’s nice parents who raised him to look at all the good in the world…to trust others. Why Rob didn’t think I was going to do this is probably best left for the great thinkers of our time.
Thwap…right to the back of poor Rob’s throat. We had been drinking sports drink throughout the entire day, so there was some good ammo.
I think I started giggling even before I let the beast out of my mouth. My knees were shaking from all the joy I was about to experience.
At the moment of impact, Rob’s head snapped upward and his eyes bulged at least a half inch larger than normal. His whole world came crashing down around him. I can only imagine the thoughts shooting around in Rob’s head at that moment…”What just happened? Where’s Craig? Who am I?” The molecules in Rob’s head were bouncing around in overdrive. Our eyes met and Rob’s look of question turned to horror as the whole idea of what just happened began to gel. A look of betrayal quickly took the place of horror.
I couldn’t believe I hit the target. The chances of this adventure actually being executed this perfectly in someone’s lifetime are statistically nonexistent. My lips began to quiver as every muscle in my body lost its strength. My legs slightly gave out as I burst into the heartiest laughter I have ever experienced. Rob began to run.
He followed his instincts. Earlier in the day, he noticed a hose attached to a spicket on the side of the house. He ran towards it with me in tow. I was laughing so hard, I couldn’t turn the throttle on the blower down. There I was, chasing Rob up the driveway with the backpack blower on full blast. The tube of the blower was whipping around like a garden hose turned to full with no one holding the end of it. It was like one of the snakes on Medusa’s head having a spasm. Tears were rolling down my cheeks. I almost didn’t make it.
I wanted to see what Rob was going to do with the water. How he kept from swallowing the whole run up the driveway, I don’t know. Rob grabbed the hose and turned it on. The angels were on Rob’s side that day because water started flowing out of the hose. Can you imagine if the hose didn’t work? Rob shoved the end of the hose into his mouth for a few minutes until there was nothing more he could do. I stood there laughing; now with the blower on idle. I turned it off and hovered over him, looking at a mere shell of what once was a strong and vibrant friend. His face was all wet and dripping with water. He was completely beaten down. Who knew that such a promising day could end like this? We walked back down to the truck.
The good thing about Rob is that he never stays mad for very long. We probably made up within minutes and things probably returned to normal. I am not sure if he is aware of the gift he gave me that day…the gift of experiencing the absolute, number one, funniest thing that ever happened in my short stay on this planet.
Now that the job was complete, we walked over to Craig and asked him if he needed us to work the next day. Craig replied, “I will never work the two of you together again in my life.”
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