Yard work does not become me.
Last weekend, I dumped 18 bags of black mulch around the various neglected flowerbeds and edges of the backyard. Five days later, I still have traces of black around my fingernails and skin. I have washed my hands hundreds of times. You couldn’t tell at all.
But I think the effort was worth it, the backyard looks better. Oh – and of course as soon as I got done with all that, my little white dogs rolled in it. they’re now a nice shade of gray in certain spots.
Speaking of the old ‘hood, last weekend, I went to my neighbor’s bagpipe band fundraiser. My mother, who was dragged along to the event, kept track of how many times we heard ‘Danny Boy.’
I think after the fifth or sixth time, she stopped counting.
“How do we make this suck less?” I asked the producer, while on a video shoot last week.
“Marry it.” he said, without missing a beat.
The crew, young kids fresh out of college, mostly, erupted in laughter.
So… it’s been awhile.
It was my intention to get back here at least weekly. That did not happen. The hours just slip away. And when I have a moment to sit down and get out my laptop, there ALWAYS seems to be a dog belly in need of a rub.
Sometimes there are two dog bellies that need attention.
Who am I kidding, it’s all the time.
In the continuing drama that my street has turned into in the old neighborhood, one morning this week, I was out walking the dogs when the angry man on the corner house came out of his side door, yelling, slamming doors, etc. He then went back into the house and then out again as the dogs and I were heading back to my house. Because his house is on the corner, at an angle, I had a full view of this from the street. The whole neighborhood did, for the record. By the time I got the dogs into the house, the man’s wife was outside yelling, ‘he has a gun call the police.’ over and over. At the top of her lungs.
So I did.
It took me two times before I successfully dialed 911 for the record. More proof that I am really good in a crisis. A few hours later, at work, I think my hands finally stopped shaking.
Because, you know. You’ve met me.
My mother has abandoned us once again, for two weeks, so I have been trying to run home at lunch time and let the dogs out. Anyway, the other day, I planned to pick up lunch for myself and some coworkers from an a soup and salads from this amazing (and vegan) place near my house, called the Souper Market. Anyway, it is beyond lovely outside and when I got back to work, I took the elevator up to the 3rd floor because my hands were full and this older woman gets on and asks me if its nice outside.
I say its lovely and I think winter is over. We chat about the weather forecast. I said, its hard to care about global warming when we had such a mild winter
She says to me, ‘ global warming is made up. Totally made up by liberals and hippies. Donald trump says so.’
I weep for humanity.. I couldn’t even respond – I think I was in shock.
So we booked a vacation to Martha’s Vineyard. We thought I’d be a great place to explore for a long weekend and maybe, make further plans for a week there somewhere down the road. And then, I discovered that we couldn’t get the car to the island – the one ferry that takes cars was sold out. And then, the house rental was canceled.
Planning is exhausting work.
I am going to start a twitter account for things the engineers around me say. So so so very loud.
As an example, one just used Siri to send a message to his wife. To check the frig. He thinks he brought a sweet onion this weekend.
So… Cleveland is going to host the Republican Convention. I know lots of people that will be renting their house for thousands of dollars for the week. I would rent mine but the last thing in the world I want is a republican staying in my home. I know, it’s a tough life.
Also. I think you can expect to see riots come mid-July. Good times here. At least it will be warm so all the protesters (from both sides) will be warm when sleeping outside. Every hotel within a 90-minute drive from downtown is already booked.
It will be an interesting summer here.
Hope to be back soon. Happy Spring.
I think. There is snow in the forecast, so who knows.
From my mother:
Washing all bedding,mattress pad,blankets ,etc Those two little “fuckers” spend half of their time in my bed.
You know that feeling when you wake up and remember a dream but just for a few moments. It’s a fleeting memory and you know soon as you open your eyes or move, the dream will be gone.
That seems to happen to me a lot. Except for one day this week. I had this dream and I woke up remembered it as clear as day.
And I realized my dreams are incredibly, so so incredibly boring. Even in my dreams, I seem to be boring.
My dream was that I changed the font setting on my iPhone to be bold.
100% true story. And now that I’ve done that in real life, I suppose my dreams have been fulfilled.
And honestly it’s not nearly as rewarding as I expected. Except that I can read stuff on my phone very clearly without any sort of reading glasses.
But as for realizing my dreams, I think I expected more.
I saw the most amazing thing this morning on my short commute to work.
Where two highways divide and traffic is always crazy, with people crossing multiple lanes at one time, a State Trooper was there to witness a car cut across three lanes of traffic and cut me off, drive on emergency/berm lane and almost hit the trooper’s car. I looked at the trooper, wondering if he was going to do anything as I passed. Then, in my rear-view mirror, I saw him slowly pull out. And, then, I watched him passed me. And then, his lights went on.
And he pulled the car over.
I can only imagine what the guy was going to get a ticket for, especially since I really thought that he was going to hit the trooper as he was crossing across the berms and lanes.
It’s nice to see karma in action like that. Real nice.
I was in Los Angeles last week.
And well, it was interesting.
For sure lots of good people watching.
Lots. And lots of it.
Like the woman peeing on a street corner. Seriously, legs spread, underwear down around her ankles. Peeing. In the middle of morning rush hour traffic in the Financial District.
The lesson is, a reminder to all of us, never ever think that any liquid on the street is just water. Odds are that it is not.
Also, think twice, ladies, about wearing open-toe shoes while out and about.
My mother, The Diva, her retirement, is a big fan of the Wendy Williams television show. Because I work during the day I have never seen the show. But thanks to my mother she keeps me updated on it.
Even though I’ve never asked.
Anyway, here’s a text conversation about Herpel Wendy and the show and, clearly, how it keeps my mother worldly.