The Mountain Comes to Pat

I was going to start this particular essay with the quote about Mahomet going to the mountain when it wouldn’t come to him, but when I researched the saying, I discovered that Muslims find that quote offensive for some reason having to do with racism. I’m not sure why it’s racist. Do be honest, I don’t know why a lot of what is currently racist is considered so. But that isn’t germane to this particular post, which is, in fact, about the mountain coming to me.

I arranged for rocks to be put around my house and garage to protect the foundations, and more recently, to fill in the right-of-way between the sidewalk and the street with rocks instead of unsightly weeds and rampant tree growth on leftover roots from a felled tree.

This has been a long, drawn-out process. The first of the rocks, which had sort of an ochre tone, were laid last fall and another installment this spring. The rock project has been on hiatus for a few months, but the workers were here last week to get more rock to finish putting around the house, creating more paths, as well as doing the right-of-way. Unfortunately, the current batches of rock are more rose than ochre. (The pile of brick red rock you see in the photo below is the breeze for the paths.)

The workers used all the pink stones for the right-of-way, since it doesn’t matter as much if those rocks don’t match the rocks around the house, and they went back today to see if they could get the right color. Although we thought the pink rock was a mistake, it turns out that all the rocks are from the same quarry, just a different “dye lot.” Technically, it’s not a dye lot since the rocks were never colored (except by nature), but still, the rocks are a completely different color. Luckily, the people at the place where the workers have been getting the rock dug down beneath the pink rock and found a couple of tons of the original color.

I’m sure the workers are even more pleased about than I am because they are the ones who would have had to take up all the old rock, mix it with the pink rock so that there wouldn’t be two separate colors of rock around the house, and then lay it all back down. Tons of rock!! Yikes.

So what does this have to do with the mountain coming to me? Apparently, the quarry is a mountain that is being blasted to smithereens, and some of those smithereens are ending up here on my property. I suppose, since I haven’t been able to get to the mountains since I’ve been here, I should be grateful that the mountain is coming to me. Seen in such a light, it will give me a better appreciation of all the rock that’s being laid around here, though I must admit to feeling a bit guilty because of my participation in the destruction of that particular mountain.

***

What if God decided S/He didn’t like how the world turned out, and turned it over to a development company from the planet Xerxes for re-creation? Would you survive? Could you survive?

A fun book for not-so-fun times.

Click here to buy Bob, The Right Hand of God.

7 Responses to “The Mountain Comes to Pat”

  1. Uthayanan Says:

    One silly question ! Why your post box is far from your house. Is it prohibited to fix near your gate ? In winter it is comfortable !

    • Estragon Says:

      My understanding is the box is located for the comfort and convenience of the delivery person (not the customer). I believe they drive right-hand drive vehicles, and can reach the box while remaining in the driver’s seat. I’m not American though, just my observation during visits there.

      • Pat Bertram Says:

        That’s the right answer, but around here, it’s sort of silly. Most people don’t have boxes on the street, so the mail deliverer still has to get out of the car at almost every house. Mine is on the street because when I moved here, there was a new law that every new owner had to put the box on the street. What’s particularly silly, is that while in most places it’s illegal to park in front of a mailbox, around here, that isn’t the case. So even if a mailbox is on the street, it’s blocked by parked vehicles, so the delivery person still has to get out of the car to put the mail in the box.

  2. Uthayanan Says:

    Thank you Estragon for your good analysis. It help me to understand. I am a pragmatic person culturally living in France (Europe). USA consists 50 different states covering a vast swath of North America, with Alaska in the northwest and Hawaii extending the nation’s presence into the Pacific Ocean. And laws and some extent culture and mentality were different from one state to another. Honestly it is difficult to understand everything. I don’t know who you are but naturally you understand better American life and culture better than me.
    I know you are a very kind and brilliant person and never hesitate to say what you feel without hurting anybody.
    It is my simple curiosity of Pat way of life without and judgement.
    All my best regards and wish good health for you and your children.

    • Pat Bertram Says:

      Adding to the confusion about laws and culture in the USA, not only are there fifty states, but each state is divided into numerous counties, each with its own particular laws, and then each city in the county has its own laws. Federal laws come first, then state, then county, then city, so by the time all those laws are passed down to the individual, there are a lot of laws to obey!

      • Uthayanan Says:

        Thank you Pat it is interesting. I am always in learning process. After my post first time I try to enlarge your photo maximum with my main computer with a very big screen. Usually I read from my pad and reply with it as far as after my wife departure I use very less my computer and I understood something better. Actually your letter box is not very far from your gate and the surrounding people houses and environment is very close so there is no problem with safety measure.
        Is am already very much confused with my grief for the fourth year and I feel very weak and try to survive. Your blog is the only blog that I read and help me to read and stay afloat.

        • Pat Bertram Says:

          The letter box is close compared to the letter box where Jeff and I lived. That one was almost a quarter of a mile away. We lived that far off the highway, and the post office wouldn’t come down that road, so our box had to be out next to the highway.


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