Grandpa Comes for a Visit--part 5

[Central Scrutinizer]

 

Grandpa Comes For A Visit--A True Village Life Ghost Tale--part 5

 

 

After finishing my toilet I went into the bedroom, threw on some clothes, shorts and t-shirt and sandals, made myself another cup of pseudo Joe, and ate my jam and toast while reading the oh so pleasant news from around the world. Which is enough to drive any man into a fit of depression and wrist slashing. I don't know why the hell I even bother reading the papers any more. I love being in the village because I want to get away from all that crap actually.

 

Finishing my breaking of the nightly fast I wandered out onto the veranda, after dutifully placing my cup, saucer, and plate in the sink out back for later washing by my loving wife.

 

(Call me a chauvinistic pig, but one thing I love about being in the village is I never have to wash my dishes, nor wash, dry, and iron my clothing. It's not considered my job or duty, and I catch no shit or grief for not doing so. Sans peur et sans reproche. (Without fear and without reproach) Ah, to the manly life! Let us drink a toast gentlemen!)

 

I noticed the clouds had dissipated a bit, the rain had finished for a while it looked. I decided to get out my new electric "weed whacker" and boldly and bravely strike out into the wilderness of my miniscule front lawn, to try to tame the lush growth which had been tickling my knees every time I walked to and from the tarmac to the front door of the house. It had been neglected for many months.

 

This messy lawn, being a breeding ground for tics, mosquitoes, and God knows what else, needed to be beat back of it's thriving wilderness, for the health and welfare of my family, and visiting friends and neighbors. Salus populi suprema est lex! (Fitting Latin, meaning: The safety of the people is the highest law.)

 

Thus seeing my "manly" duty I set out to prepare for the dangerous mission I had accepted. I am the man of the house, the lawn is my domain and responsibility. I will not be seen as lacking, nor will my lawn be the disgrace most Thai lawns here-abouts are! I am falang, dammit! Civilization of a western sort has come to the village. Lawns are sacrosanct to us Yanks.

 

As I stepped across the "ground gutter" in front of the house something large splashed in the bottom of the concrete culvert, causing me to hurry my step across and turn and look down into the gutter. At first I thought it a large, short, fat snake that I spied thrashing about in the watery muck at the bottom of the drain. Upon further closer inspection, though not too damn close, you never know what the fuck you'll come across here in the tropical Isaan villages, I found it to be something like what we here in New England call a "skink", a water loving lizard. Sort of like a large newt, with a fat black shiny body, and with tiny, almost non-existent legs, with spots of color banding it's sides.

 

For some odd reason my demented brain thought, "Dew on the Newts We Got", a strange song from Frank Zappa's 200 Motels album, and the song, "The Lad Searches the Night For His Newts" from the same album. Well, last night the lad would have had a hard time searching for his newts, that's for sure! I remembered then the utter blackness of the previous night.

 

I hunted down my miserable excuse for a grass rake, a plastic piece of crap that is all I've found for a rake to purchase in this area. God, what I would give for a nice, springy, steel tined falang grass rake, or even a sturdy bamboo one would do! I found the rake around the side of the house, and used it to move the skink from in front of my house to further down by the dirt drainage ditch that lies along the road beside my property. Where the creature would be less likely to alarm anyone else, and probably much happier. Besides, I didn't know if it was poisonous. Well, some are you know.

 

I left the rake out front for later use and hunted down my new weed whacker. It was in back of the house.

 

This excellent machine I had first spotted in the Makro Super-store in Surin a couple of weeks before. I lusted for it the moment my eyes set upon it, but it came in a package deal, which included a circular saw as well. I didn't really want, or need, the saw at the moment, but desired the weed whacker greatly. It was at that time of first spying the whacker in Makro that I was cleaning up the front yard of the Surin rental house. The grass needed cutting, and I had naught to cut it with but a rice picking sickle, and a sorely damaged back that I was loathe to test with the constant bending and cutting of yard grasses with a damned short handled sickle.

 

So after a couple of days of waffling, and watching the front yard grasses grow yet higher in the moist climate of rainy season, I ran down and bought the weed whacker and accompanying circular saw. I gave the saw to Sis as a present. With different interchangeable blades it could cut ceramic tiles, cement block, metals, and other stuff, as well as wood. She loves tools anyway, being a manly sort of woman.

 

I brought the weed whacker home to Surin and set about putting it together.

 

The piece of shit weed whacker broke in the first half hour of use!!

 

(to be continued)

 

 

Cent

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"By the work one knows the workman."

 

La Fontaine

 

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Omnia vincit labor.

(Labor overcomes all things.)

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[Coss]

[color:"green"] Sort of like a large newt, with a fat black shiny body, and with tiny, almost non-existent legs, with spots of color banding it's sides. [/color]

 

Probably a Salamander, newts have a frill down the back and skinks are land lubber lizards.

 

just my 2 bahts worth,

 

Keep up the excellent writing.

[Central Scrutinizer]

Coss,

 

Yeah, you're probably right. As I remember though newts have the frills on the sides of their necks, kinda like gills, at least the ones I've seen before as a kid in N.J.. And yup, you are right. Skinks are actually a name used for a land lubber lizard. Name/word is originally from Egypt I believe. But here in Boston the water lizards, certain ones, some salamanders, are referred to as skinks for some reason.

 

Glad you like the story so far.

 

Later coss,

 

Cent

[Central Scrutinizer]

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