Three Little Words

Three Little Words

No, the three little words were not, “I love you.”

They were, “Do it yourself.”

And they were uttered by a friend of ours who owns a retail store in West Memphis. We were out shopping for the day, when we passed by her place. When we entered her store, she saw us from the front counter and immediately made the grave error of asking me what I had been up to lately.

Then I compounded her mistake by answering her question.

And in doing so, I guess it sounded like I was whining about all the chores that needed to be done around my place. When I brought up the costs involved with getting the work done by contractors, she brought me back down to earth with the admonishment: “Do it yourself.”

I stood stock still.

Feeling challenged, like being called out for a duel with pistols at twenty paces, I struggled for a rebuttal. Before I could respond, however, the storekeeper added — taking aim and shooting first: “When I have work to do, I just buy the supplies and tools and do it myself. It’s easy and it saves money.”

My head was spinning at the possibilities.

Especially when she said, “saves money.”

Cha-ching. I was sold.

It was, as they say, an epiphany.

Amountaintop experience. For, you see, I was always the guy who was working twenty-four/seven. Never a minute to do chores at home ‘cause I was busting it at work all the time. But, you know… you can throw shovels full of money in your bank account and private contractors can empty it out just as fast with a spoon.

That’s because the cost of repair/home improvement/lawn work, et al., is, as they say, outrageous!

It’s all a two-edged sword, you see? It is just as important to save money as to spend money. Only, most folks are like me… acting like they cannot hear you well enough when that suggestion is made… like they have to turn up their hearing aide, or their eyes glaze over.

You mean, I might have to do without something? Something, like using my spare time to putter around the place making improvements or repairs?

That’s like asking me to stop eating out at the fancy restaurant every weekend, or not buy the latest fashions at the big-tag stores in Memphis? Or, maybe put money in the savings account instead of taking out a loan to purchase a new sportscar?

Or even, I may have to fix/upgrade my homestead by doing the work myself, sacrificing my free time, instead of hiring it out like our friend suggested?

Whaaa?

That’s just C-R-A-Z-Y talk!

And, take it from me, it’s hard getting started — especially when others are watching you.

For instance, I would walk into the hardware outlets in town — and the folks who worked there and who really knew me would gape at me wide-eyed, and blurt out before they thought about the implication: “What are YOU doing here?”

Like I’m the last person you would see at the working end of a hammer.

Or maybe I had made a mistake…like the illiterate who walked into a hardware store and asked what aisle the tomatoes were located, thinking he was in a grocery store.

Like that… Anyway, I started small… baby steps.

I cleaned out the gutters of three inches of mud and slime while simultaneously fighting off squadrons of wasps—teetering precariously all the time at the top of an eight-foot ladder.

That done, it came time for the house shutters.

They were bent, the pins out of the walls, faded.

I bought the pins — raw materials — which I spraypainted, straightened the shutters and put them on the exterior wall, put the pins in with sealant, then applied tire cleaner to the vinyl and, voila!

New-looking shutters.

I just saved about twohundred, fifty bucks.

That’s when our mare decided to knock down her stall.

So, as our shopkeeper friend had previously suggested, I picked up the supplies and the tools and put half of the hardware store clerks in West Memphis and Marion into shock when they saw me darken their doorways.

But that’s THEIR problem. They got shock therapy for that.

However, the straw that broke the camel’s back… the thing that REALLY got my back up and ready to fight was the battle that loomed next on the horizon.

FIRE ANTS.

In regard to them, I am of the same school and opinion as P. Allen Smith is on his YouTube link on the internet about the subject, when he declares: “You know, I’m usually a live and let-live kind of guy, but THESE FIRE ANTS! THEY GOTTA GO!”

For I had been hit by them just one too many times. So I went out to the lawn and looked around. We were infiltrated with them… surrounded by them… swarmed by them.

Every few feet there was a mound of them. Plants were dying from their burrowing, animals were showing up on the place with grievous bumps. They were next to the house and barn and garage.

They were EVERYWHERE!

So I got into the batmobile and headed toward the stores. I picked up every poison, home-remedy and treatment from the Internet, the University of Arkansas and the local Ag Center that I could muster and dumped it into a 15-gallon tank. I applied that mixture, then refilled the tank.

Next, I broadcasted granules. Then I refilled the tank again and again… for two solid days the battle went on. I even went back and examined the mounds to see that it had the desired effect on the fire ants.

And I can’t declare a winner yet in this war, but I’m a firm convert now to doing things myself.

All I needed was a little motivation.

And killing fire ants is a LOT of motivation.

I’ve not forgotten about them, either.

They are at the top of my TO-DO list. I wrote FIRE ANTS in capital letters, in red ink and underlined it… even put an exclamation point behind the word, ‘ANTS.’ This thing ain’t over ‘til it’s over.

That’s a fact.

By Robert L. Hall