On the Rocks

Those who know me accept that I have a streak of LOCD - "Lawncare Obsessive Compulsive Disorder." I won't let people park on it. I holler at kids who walk across it. Yard sale? Forget it! For years I have stewed over folks cutting the corner with their cars. The city, in its frugality, didn't put in curbs when they repaved some years ago. On my corner, a steadily growing pit began to overtake the turf.

I first addressed this by backfilling the corner, reseeding, and putting in reflector stakes. They were stolen. I next put in small posts and linked them together with a yellow rope. They were ran over. Repeatedly. Finally, I asked a farmer from my small group to drop off some large rocks. I reasoned that, if someone tried to run over these he wouldn't get very far.

I was right.Here is what really amazes me: this young man was at the stop sign turning right. In a front-wheel-drive car. Noting that he is on top of all four really big rocks, either he a) never slowed down at the intersection, or b) got a John Force type hole-shot coming off the line. He was a nice kid, though. He said (and I'm not kidding about this), "Let me know if any of your rocks were damaged, and I'll make it right."