I must be feeling much better because The Man is annoying the hell out of me. That is always a good sign. Once again I am in total disbelief regarding the Male Brain and how it operates, if it operates at all.
Let me first try to give you an idea of the property we are living on. It is BEAUTIFUL ! The Man's house sits at the end of a long "U" shaped driveway. When you turn in off of Days River Road you follow the dirt track through the woods for about two hundred feet where it opens up to a "field" where the house, barn and garage sit. The garage is at the end of the drive way, going another hundred feet or so sits the house and another hundred feet past the house is the barn. The property is surrounded on three sides by woods and on the West side, about a quarter of a mile away, across two other fields is the "highway".
When we turn in off Days River Road we drive up the first and less used driveway which brings us past the "front" or West side of the house. We drive across the yard, turn left between the barn and the South side of the house and then turn left again to park outside the back door on the East side of the house. The Man needs to park right outside the door of the house so he only has to walk about six steps to the door where his oxygen hose awaits. (The hose is attached to the concentrator that sits in the kitchen and is always running.) In order to walk the six steps from the car to the house The Man needs his portable oxygen machine that he uses while driving. (so far it provides sufficient air for driving but that will eventually not be enough and he will have to go to a tank or portable concentrator. When we travel in the RV he is hooked up to a portable concentrator but for the car he is good with the little portable machine that is about the size of a Stephen King novel.)
Anyway . . . . The car is parked outside the back door along with the ride on lawn mower, the tractor and a few feet further away, the RV. It is a Hill Billy parking lot. All the vehicles are within walking distance for The Man and each vehicle is equipped with its own tank of oxygen. It is a well thought out arrangement. I could care less about what is parked outside and where it is parked because we are in the country and there are no neighbors that we have to be fancy for.
Next to this side of the house there is a small cement patio with a round table and four chairs. (Remember the wrought iron chair I dropped on my toe? This is where it came from.). Between this patio and the garage is a LARGE Maple tree with a big, heavy wooden picnic table sitting in the shade of the tree. It's a wonderful spot and I love to sit out here. Up until this year this picnic table sat out on the grass in the sun near the tractor and lawn mower. I got some guys to move it under the tree so I can sit out there and, well, have a picnic.)
But there is ONE thing that disrupts this perfect setting . . . The septic tank . . . This necessity of country living is buried about twelve feet straight out from the back door. And NOTHING . . . I MEAN NOTHING . . . must ever be parked, driven or stood upon this most sacred depository. (I have never had to deal with a septic tank just outside my door so this is all new to me. When I lived on Long Island we had a cesspool but it was located out in the middle of the front lawn where no one drove.)
Now considering the amount of vehicles that inhabit the space on this side of the house it is amazing to me that no one who visits has ever parked here. But anyone who knows The Man also knows where the septic tank is and is sure to stay far, far away. Most people park next to the Maple tree and the patio but occasionally an unsuspecting traveler will drive straight ahead when entering the "main" driveway and park up close to the house. There is an old laundry drying arrangement made up of two "T" shaped metal poles with rope strung between them. This contraption sits directly between the septic tank and the area at the end of the driveway. For many years this has been the "Stop" Sign so to speak to keep people from driving too close to where the septic tank is. Although there was one woman who drove straight up the driveway and parked UNDER the drying rack. The Man had a canary and made her move her car immediately. (Correct me if I'm wrong but aren't septic tanks made of concrete ??? Aren't roads made of concrete? I'm just saying . . . )
About a week ago we were sitting out on the patio and The Man announced that he would like to take down the old laundry drying rack seeing how we NEVER EVER hang anything outside. I replied that this was probably a very good idea. (Now just because he is thinking about this now does NOT mean this is going to happen any time in the next century.) He continued to say that he really would like to take the drying rack down BUT . . . (And here is where I am questioning his sanity.) . . . if he takes the drying rack down then people won't know they shouldn't park there and they will end up parking on top of the septic tank. (A reasonable assumption.) SO I suggested he just purchase a "DO NOT PARK" sign, stick it in the ground in front of the septic tank that would be that. HIS solution to this problem is to move the picnic table, (that weighs about five hundred pounds), over to the grass in front of the septic tank.
I have always assumed that picnic tables were made to sit at when you are having a picnic. Placing this table where he wants it means it is now in the full sun ALL day and it is sitting nearly on top of a smelly septic tank. (Yes, when the conditions are right there is a distinct odor wafting through the air in the vicinity of "The Hillbilly Parking Lot". ) I do not think I or anyone else would enjoy sitting in the hot sun having a picnic when the air smells like . . . well . . . a septic tank. The Man's reasoning is that a picnic table will keep people from parking in that spot as opposed to a sign that says, "NO PARKING" . Granted the table IS larger than a sign but I think it is a little extreme.
Especially when I know I am the one who would be asked to move the damn thing !
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