Tumbling Down the Rabbit Hole.....

Hallo Eve

First off, this is another true episode in the weird stuff category. It can be verified with the city street repair dept. – I think. It was quite an eyeopener for me....

So, every summer we face the same ordeal of mowing the lawn. All the neighbors mow their lawns so we must too. We have managed to alleviate the need to mow in the entire back yard and side yards by planting gardens but we still must mow the front which isn’t much but for the boulevard, on which we pay taxes and $ for tree care even though the city claims it for itself whenever the need arises and we trim our own trees so they have very little to do here. 

Picture a heated summer day – upwards of 80 degrees F (that’s 80 F’n degrees!) – and we’ve reached the maximum measurement allowed of 6 inches so I must mow and proceed to do so. Tediously back and forth and back and forth across the boulevard pushing the not ecofriendly, noisy, made of steel lawnmower so that I’m melting with every swathe. There is no time even for reverie, it’s all just work and seems silly being that lawns are not native here and should all be replaced with wild prairie grasses. Back and forth I go when suddenly, with no prior notice, no inkling of impending disaster, VOOOMP! I am sucked down into the ground like a rehearsal for death! Seriously! A sinkhole had opened up right under my feet! MY VERY OWN SINKHOLE! It wasn't an easy pleasant glide ...instead it was an unpleasant  instant drop into the netherworld. Mother nature hadn't savored me on the way down - she just swallowed me in one gulp.....

I am now at an entirely new level with my environment and my first emotions are a mixture of embarrassment, humiliation, and guilt (products of my catholic school upbringing). Did anyone witness this humiliation? Did I commit some horrible crime to deserve being swallowed whole? I glanced furtively around from my new perspective to see if anyone is watching and, satisfied that I’m safe from being a neighborhood curiosity (a title I may already have earned), I crawl back out of the hole and stand beside it on the bit of walk that leads across the boulevard from the sidewalk to the street. Stunned and bewildered, I try to reason but, upon the instantaneous recognition of the situation, my brain had dissolved into the atmosphere leaving me on my own with no thought but WHAT JUST HAPPENED? (Or WTF!!!)

I look across the hole where the lawnmower sits waiting on the other side, silent, the only witness. Why didn't IT fall down the hole, why did I have to go down instead? The hole is approximately 2 feet in diameter, not all that large.   I peer down in and decide that it should be investigated so I climbed back down there to have a look around.  Now you have to remember that I had only set out to cut the grass to an approximation of legal length with no desire for additional entertainment...

I had registered a cooling effect on my first involuntary trip and so on seeking to learn more I was relieved to realize that I hadn’t begun a decent into the fiery depths where evildoers dwell. That was a plus.

Upon surveying the hole I found that it was actually quite a nice cavernous space, maybe six by eight feet extending from the curb all the way under the public sidewalk. I took in the ceiling which consisted of grassroots (that’s a rock n roll band, right?) and weed roots (no band) and various bits of detritus, seemingly, almost magically, suspended in midair - albeit at ground level. At this point various advantages occurred to me. Although there was no tunnel to any easy cash my newly found underground grotto could still be put to use as a lovely respite from the heat. I could put a cot down here and maybe carve some graffiti-like art on the walls illumined with gilt so that future historians might be fooled into thinking it was some sort of pre-boulevard establishment. I could cool it even further with a huge block of ice covered in straw, bring my ipad, nook, iphone etc. down there. Flashlights wouldn’t be necessary as long as all tech stuff remained fully charged. Add a shelf for bottled water and other sundries. Maybe a chair should I deign to invite a guest. A truly comforting image of  relief.

I would have to figure some sort of ceiling support and fix a door to the ground outside. All of these ideas came tumbling into my brain much like I tumbled into the hole! (- my brain, which had returned after the initial shock had subsided and it felt it was safe.) The earthy odor was invigorating! I felt like moving in for the duration of the summer….it reminded me of the fallout/bomb shelters that were popping up (figuratively speaking) all over the neighborhood when I was a kid. My father wisely determined that the efforts were pointless and if all 11 of us and the dog were to take up living quarters in a 12 foot square space we might as well let the bomb drop before we climb in. The war would be inside...

Considering further I decided that the door would have to be inconspicuous as anything placed on the boulevard is fair game to passersby. I figured I could plant bean sprouts on my door and pick them and eat them while I lolled on my cot under the ground with my nook in my hand….very healthy all around….

Somehow the door would have to blend in, remain inconspicuous. I’ve repurposed many things on the boulevard.  As a matter of fact, this summer, through no fault of its own with regard to my earthy episode, I put the gas powered, eco unfriendly, steel bodied lawnmower out there and it lasted all of three minutes!!! (We now have an eco friendly one that is so silent I have to keep checking the height of the grass to be sure it's actually functioning.)

In the end I knew this would not go over well if the city boulevard police were to spot my spacious lower level domicile so I resigned myself to the fact that it just wouldn’t do and with misgivings crawled back out of the hole (first checking for any lurkers who might spot me) and reluctantly gave the street guys a call. Two weeks later, as nothing had transpired from the first call other than my driving stakes into the ground and purchasing my own personal roll of caution tape with which I cordoned it off, I called them again, and again for a third time and, so, on the fourth call, after a 5 month period of no action, I mentioned the fact that someone could inadvertently fall into the hole while engrossed in their iphone, break their neck and sue the city for damages. In a day there were dump trucks lined up to erase all traces of my venture to the underworld, city workers in florescent vests scrambling all over plugging every tiny nook so that nothing, not even a breath of O2 could exist down there. It was surprising how much fill it could hold. It was kind of sad too, realizing that my respite residence had had such a short existence and that only in my brain...And that was it, and I'm left wondering - is this a daily occurrence all over urbanity? Does this happen to all mowers of boulevards? Or is it that I'm just specially designed for weird stuff? Geeze! 

Anyway, be careful my friends while you walk the walk – lawnmower or no – because you never know what opportunities 'will open up for you'! 😲(Alice had it made!)