Dear Mom and Dad,
Well, Jonesie and I are going to buy dirt this spring. Until now, we've never lived anywhere long enough to sink into.
That's what you do here in New Orleans instead of putting down roots. Roots don't go down here, they run along the top of the ground--where the water table is. Houses, which have no roots to keep them top side, sink. Some people prefer to call it "settling in." Personally, I find it very UN-settling. There's little margin for sinking or settling when you're inches above the water table.
So we're going to buy dirt in an effort to remain higher than the street where we park our car. It would be very embarrassing if our car floated into our house during a rain storm. How would we explain it to our insurance company?
Of course, the street is sinking, too, which helps some, but still results in a net loss in our battle to stay on top.
The other reason we are buying dirt is so we can Landscape our yard. Lately Jonesie has become dissatisfied with our Natural Wildlife Habitat look. It's not popular with the Yard of the Month judges. So, prior to the arrival of our dirt, Jonesie has begun clearing.
The first to go were our killer bushes. It won't be nearly as much fun answering the door. No more betting on who will jump the highest when they back into them while saying their farewells. Jonesie says you don't get picked to be yard of the month by piercing the judge's tush with holly.
We also took down a couple of tress that were threatening to speed up the sinking process of our house the next time a hurricane breezed through. So now our yard looks like someone dropped a nuclear bomb in it. Jonesie assures me this is the proper foundation for landscaping. If we buy dirt.
Then we opened discussions on what to landscape with. I voted for rice or some other edible aquatic vegetation. At least I won't have to see them drown when it rains and they'd be a source of food, but Jonesie wants something more traditional. He's got his eye on that yard of the month sign.
That's no traditional Wyoming landscape, you understand. There are no rocks here and a cactus would probably suck up too much water and explode. Exploding cactus won't get you any votes either. So, we're going traditional New Orleans, only without the statues or bird baths. Jonesie doesn't want to make the yard any harder to mow than it already is with all the tree roots and Cypress knees.
Of course, the really big question sis, can a couple of gomers from Wyoming find true happiness or feel at home in a yard that is lush and verdant? Will they be able to control it? A couple of our friends (also from Wyoming) planted a couple of watermelon plants in their back yard. It was worse than rabbits. The plants not only took over the back yard and covered their house with vines, it also invaded the neighbors' yards. They didn't even get any watermelons from it and finally had to move to escape it. I'm telling you, that plant knew they were verdant impaired.
We've already got a banana plant that bullies us every spring to fall and refuses to die. The cable guys dug it up and hauled it away and it was back again the next year.
Why do I fear we'll slowly, inexorably sink into the swamp beneath while surrounded by a flowering paradise--and all the while longing for red rock and a dusty-looking evergreen bush?
love,
pj
©1992 Pauline Baird Jones All rights reserved.
A version of this column was originally published in The Lovell Chronicle in June, 1992.