Close to the Earth

Close to The Good Earth
Sunday evening I tackled the ivy again. One square yard to go but it is the last remnant of the landscaping that came with the house: black plastic covered with large stones and 20 years of accumulated top soil overgrown with English ivy. Three five-gallon buckets of stones so far, but I was interrupted when Sam, our yellow lab, sensed a deer in the field and bolted over the fence to protect his territory. I followed, not through the fence opening, but through the path the dog has worn and over the wire fence he smashed down to about 18 inches. Deer in the distance hesitates and looks at Sam who hesitates and looks at me, trying to decide whether to obey me or the primal urge to track the animal. He decides to obey me but not wanting to give me too much pleasure in his behavior, he meanders around the field sniffing. Meanwhile I find THE PERFECT FIELDSTONE to add to my collection for that far distant day when I build a fieldstone retaining wall. It is almost past dusk now and I pick up the stone, call Sam and trundle back to the house, through the dog path and not quite over the wire fence.

Time slows as my body creates ever smaller acute angles with the ground. I have enough time to lift the field stone over my head so my face won't smash into it. Contact. Face buried in soft forest duff. Right hand resting on a rotting stump. Left hand awkwardly wrapped around the field stone. Ok. Take stock. I'm breathing. I can wiggle my toes. Boys are in house electronically engaged. Hubby is studying at the Boys Club. I will just lay here until they miss me. Sam comes over to check me out and starts nudging/licking my face. Better take action. Get up. Stumble into the house. Ron's eyes get big at his moaning, dirt covered mother whose shirt is ripped down the sleeve. He leads me to the bathroom to clean my wounds, gets me an ice pack and proceeds to fix supper. Rick covers me with blankets, brings me a glass of OJ and finds my book for me. Hubby gets home and, after ascertaining my injuries are not serious (severely strained left thumb and backache), inquires, "Help me understand. It is dark. You are carrying a heavy stone. You come up to the fence and stop. Lift one leg over and then the other leg over."

In small voice I answer, "Nooo I'm striding back to the house and totally forget about the fence."