With a stunning show of entrepreneurial-ship, this kid took advantage of the heat by selling lemonade to his family.  Without asking for even the smallest bit of help, he made the lemonade, tested it for poison and erected a sign heralding his business.
Lemanob stanb.
5 cents a cop.
The shelter I bought for the deck lasted exactly almost nearly two weeks before becoming a sculptural mass of mangled metal in our driveway but the heat today was calling out for some shade.  Turns out this man I married, not only is very kind to repeat callers in the middle of the night, but also with a nod to his country roots, can throw up a mean lean to from some frayed rope, an old blue tarp and a fair bit of ingenuity.
I pleaded with him.  Begged him.  Please, I said, please don’t do this thing on our deck.  I’d rather stay inside than sit under a torn, stained blue tarp.  We look like we’re from Borculo, I said.  We look like rednecks, I said.  I’ll die if anyone comes back here and sees this.  I’m ordering a shade sail right now.  See?  This is me ordering a shade sail.  Put the duct tape away. 
Oh, yup.  The ratchet strap through the door is a nice touch.  My favorite part.
Nope.  Spoke too soon.  The muddy 2×4 is even better.  Sweet.
 I printed the receipt for the shade sail I’d just ordered and showed him how quaint it could be if we all just used rain umbrellas like parasols in the meantime, but only Tess bought it.  I threatened to take up smoking Virginia Slims and watching Nascar and making the boys wear wife beaters.  
I think I stomped my foot.  I think I mentioned the neighbors a few times.  
Until he said, I thought you were trying to be real?
So I dressed the table with a cloth and cut up some watermelon and served lunch al fresco.  And I’m not going to email the neighbors and explain the shanty town that has sprung up across the creek, even though they’ve surely caught a glimpse of blue plastic through the trees by now.  Because this is my Green Acres, tarp and all, and this is how we do life.  Me and this man who kills me and four yummy kids and thirteen Kevins and a tarp.  In the country.  Being real.

3 Replies to “tarp.”

  1. Of course you alredy know this Meg, but i just wanted to throw this out there for your readers sake.

    Growing up, wife beaters, Virginia Slims (not mine of course), and Nascar were pretty much run of the mill in my life. Parasols and al fresco lunches weren't. Isn't life great?

    I love your Blog, I love your kids, and most of all, I love you.


  2. here is one neighbor who can't see the blue tarp, but wouldn't mind if she could…Now that the tress are all greened up I have to ask…are there people over yonder in that thar direction.?…and then I hear shouts and laughter and am pleasently reminded that there are….


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s