familyyard

Summer '93

The Family Yard

   My Dad's now officially retired from nearly 40 years with the Ivan Allen Co, so he's now got all this time on his hands for him and Mom to work on my yard and make it look decent. Oh, that's great, I hear you cry. Mom looked at my glorious Drones Room and couldn't conceal her sick anguish. Couple that with Dad saying "Rita [my sister-in-law] says we're welcome to work in her yard, but she'd want us to do it HER way," and maybe you'd understand why I'm not doing the Happy-Happy-Joy-Joy dance. Anyway, Mom's big into azaleas, begonias, and monkey grass, which would explain why I grew up with enough of it to last me a lifetime. Nope, I want an Englishy yard to match the interior of my Englishy house. So Dad says to me he says, "We need to get you a bunch of monkey grass on that hillside." The hillside he refers to is the future rose/heather/iris garden outside my Drones Room window. I say, "uhhhh...welll...I don't really want any monkey grass in my yard. Period." Dad says, "But, honey, you need something to stop the wash." I'm about to suggest just burying a bunch of sponges when Mom starts telling me about all these begonias her friend is willing to give me.
   So I talk to Anna Mary later about my Not-wanting to turn away free yard work labor and Not-wanting to do it their way dilemma. She commiserated: "Oh, yeah, I remember when my grandfather retired. He showed up one day with the electric hedgeclippers and says `I'm going to give those hedges the trim they've been needing' and Mom and Dad are like, 'Oh, man, oh well, okay,' and halfway through he cuts the power cord so our hedges were half cut/half overgrown. Dad says, 'Yeah, that looks so much better.'" [Which is a famous story at the Estes house: When I was a very little girl, Dad forbad Mom, Wayne and Larry from using the power trimmer on the hedges because they might cut the cord and he made it through maybe two bushes before he cut the cord himself and he still hasn't lived it down.] I continued, "And the problem is I'll be off at work and I could come home and there's my yard, covered in monkey grass!" Anna Mary rebounded with "Well, you could always hit it with gasoline later and tell your parents about this year's `Monkey Grass Blight.'"

Then...

The Estes Kids Gather for Dad's Retirement (Wayne Drives)

   Even Larry flew in from L.A. to attend the gala luncheon that the Ivan Allen Co threw for Dad's retirement after 40 years. Ivan Allen put their retirement gift to Dad through the purchase of a little pick-up truck, something he's always wanted but couldn't have because he needed a Drive Around Clients car, so he and Mom were driving the new truck to the luncheon at the request of the company (something Mom was really excited about: showing up at the Capital City Club in a pick-up truck!) and Larry and I rode with Wayne and Rita in their van. We were following Dad, which is like the hare having to follow the tortoise and the tortoise is the hare's dad. (I always tried to hitch a ride back to school with friends because the collegiate drive from Atlanta to Athens could conceivably be accomplished in an hour, while the Father drive could actually be stretched to 2 hours. Wayne on the other hand cuts the 6 hour drive from Jacksonville FL to Atlanta to 4.) We needed to be there at noon. We left the house five minutes after 11. Dad's little truck is gently moving down the country roads, Wayne's gripping the steering wheel:
    Wayne: "I can't believe it--It's nearly 11:15 and we haven't even gotten to the highway."
    Larry: "I think they'll wait for Dad. He is the guest of honor."
    More chat. I tell them my dilemma with their invasion of my yard.
    Rita: "Well, send 'em over! They can do our yard anyway they want!"
    Larry: "There's one of two things you can do: Do it yourself before they get the chance, Put up barbed wire."
    I tell them about Anna Mary's grandfather and the power hedge clippers and Larry says "Hey, remember when Dad cut the power cord?"
    Rita makes a comment on the speed of Dad's driving.
    Larry: "They'll wait for him."
    Wayne nearly changes lanes into a truck and swerves back with the truck honking angrily at us. Larry exaggeratedly rebuckles his seatbelt and shoulderties himself to the side of the van.
    Me: "Oh, yeah, whatever you do, fasten yourself more tightly to the side of the car that gets hit by the truck."
    Larry nods and loosens the shoulder harness.
    We pull into the Capitol City Club.
    Wayne: "Where do we park?"
    Me: "It's valet--just follow Dad."
    Rita: "Man, this is snazzy."
    Larry: "Wayne, it's 25 minutes to 12."
    We were the first to arrive.

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