a hostile takeover...

I returned home to find my house undergoing a hostile takeover. Ten days away gives ample time for creatures to join forces and begin the process of staking their claim on large chunks of property. The weeds had also done a great job of establishing themselves as lawnlords. In fact, the only thriving vegetation in my lawn right now are the weeds. Everything else is feeling the effects of the month long drought. Between the weeds and the collabrative effort of the chipmunks and groundhogs, my pristine landscaping was undergoing a siege the likes of which it had never endured.

I cleared out the van and started the hour long process of pulling weeds. Mind you, these suckers were the size of two year old oak saplings. Some of the vines had sprawled out three to four feet toward the back. I was once again embittered at Adam and Eve for their proclevity to forbidden fruit. Everything else needs fertilization...weeds are helped along by an unseen gardener in the spiritual realm. They never lack for nourishment even in the most obscene drought. Curse those weeds.

The thing that really chapped my behind was the groundhog. He had singlehandedly dug a cave under my weeping cherry that reached over under my blue star junipers. The dirt was piled high on top of my mulch. There had to be about 2 wheelbarrows full of fresh top soil spread over about 8 feet of mulch. I was incensed. I took my spade shovel and started to demolish this demonic den of iniquity. I filled it back in and remulched the places where the mulch had been compromised. I'm a freak when it comes to seperating dirt and mulch...and I simply must have it evened out. It's already hard enough for the color of the mulch to be different in that one spot because of having to redo it. I like it to be uniform...and it's not...all because of that rude groundhog.

Yesterday I was walking my property and I found another hole that was in the process of being dug on the backside of my property. I think it was the same groundhog that watched me demolish his most recent construction. I stopped and stared at the hole until finally he peeked his little head out catching my eye. I didn't move a muscle. We looked at each other for a couple minutes...I barely blinked. I wanted to stare into his soul and for him to feel the gravity of my disgust. I wanted to communicate nonverbally the anger I felt towards him. When I could stand it no longer, I turned and ran to the house. I went up to where I store my guns (that's right, I'm a hunter...I own guns). I have a 30/30 and a double barrel 12 gauge shotgun. I don't know how to use the shotgun yet, so I grabbed the rifle and a couple rounds and headed out to the backyard to enact some long overdue justice.

As I move toward the freshly dug hole I stopped and loaded my weapon. My heart was racing with the adrenaline of a man gaurding his territory...protecting his family...securing the boundaries whereby man and beast live in peacefully agreement and harmony. I raised my gun and released the safety. I waited only 10 seconds before I saw his swollen head surface from his hole. He was curiously surveying the land (probably looking to see what he wanted to destroy next). I aimed for his temple and gently pulled the trigger with delight. I came, I saw, I kicked butt.

The best part was that he dug his own grave. I moved toward my kill and noticed that he slide down into his den making it the easiest burial I've ever witnessed. I simply shoveled the fresh dirt he had just piled back into his hole on top of him. Aly wanted to see him, Kami stood at a distace in fear, Heidi could barely keep her hands off me she was so attracted to every fiber of my masculinity. I don't blame her...I felt pretty attracted to myself. I was swelling with pride and satisfaction like no body's business.

I posted a sign in front of my house: "Beware of Me".

Comments

Jim said…
You should possibly just stick to jumping on top of the brush piles...it will be much safer for all the rest of us.
Adam said…
Ja,

What can I say. That entry was a "comic masterpiece." No other phrase aptly describes it.
Keep up the good work.
Jennifer said…
My dad would be proud! :) He now shoots squirrels with the bb gun out the kitchen window and in the winter it's not unusual to see him dash outside, grab a pre-made snowball sitting on the deck ledge and hurl it at a squirrel. Just be careful with the 12 gauge.....it left a nasty bruise on my arm

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