Well, hello, blog. Despite wonderful family members all telling me how much they enjoy this, I manage to neglect it quite badly, quite often. That is as close to an apology as I think I'm capable.
Onto the content:
It's been a loud week 'round these parts. Besides the obvious fact (obvious to us in the Midwest) that any self-respecting zealot in the region should be inclined to build an ark posthaste, I must note that it has been a WET spring.
I've been nurturing my inner gardener, and lemme tell you, it was really depressing for the first month. I planted beans 3 times. 3 times!!? Man, I've been growing beans since elementary school, and the one thing I know about them is that they practically take care of themselves. Not so here. The first 2 times they rotted in the cold, wet earth. The third time was the charm--they sprouted within 3 days. Crazy!
Birds from all walks of life have discovered the feeder, and so I take a daily delight in identifying and observing them while they feed. Dingo the wonder-cat likes it too, although he still doesn't seem to understand that he cannot get through the window to the feasting birdies. All told, much entertainment is to be found in the spectacle.
The half-burned out house next door was demolished yesterday, along with the other terrible house next door to it. This should do wonders to improve my property value. Yesterday I walked around the corner to watch the thing being torn down--it is very dramatic and exciting (or maybe my life is just painfully boring) to watch the machinery of destruction at work.
The experience yielded this completely surreal moment:
Setting: the sidewalk across the street from house being demolished. My neighbor "Buck" and the child that some deadbeat mom/renter leaves him in charge of is in tow. Their mangy dog, Hank, is also present.
ME: well, it's about time
BUCK: I tell you what, the whole neighborhood is going down
ME: *snapping photos*
CHILD: Cheese! Cheese!
HUGE CRASHING BOOM NOISE AS HOUSE BEGINS TO FOLD. A raccoon comes out from a dormer, looking confused
BUCK: Aw, hell. that's my raccoon up there! Heidi! Heiiiiiiiiiiiidiiiiiii! Come on out here, girl!
CHILD: Heidi? Heidi! C'mere Heidi!
ME: Your raccoon?
BUCK: I think that's her
ME: Your pet raccoon?
BUCK: Well, she crawled up into the attic, so I ain't seen her since last winter. But I feed her everyday.
ME: But, you're sure that's her?
BUCK: Well, it looks like her.
ME: Yeah, but don't raccoons usually look pretty similar?
BUCK: Hmmm. Maybe.
Aaaaargh. Welcome to white trash land. I live in a neighborhood I like to call "the white-trash hatchery of America". It's not much of an exaggeration, really.
Nothing much to tell besides the tale of this Saturday morning, when the Jehova's Witnesses came a-calling, and Chip did what any good man would do...hid in the corner of the living room, out of sight, forcing me to answer the door in disgraceful athletic attire. I softened the blow of "I am an atheist" by substituting the word "secular," but despite my repeated attempts to tell them that they were not going to convert me, they still insisted on making a future date to visit us.
We will be more prepared this next time. Oh, Chip was kind enough to set up recording equipment so that we could save the whole encounter for posterity. He's a good man that way.
So there! A blog. Hope you are all well. All my love, ~F
4 comments:
Beans are tougher than you might imagine. They are warm loving plants, and in these climates, that means you don't put them out until the ground temps is greater that 70 degrees or so. That can be as late as Memorial day.
But, it is an easy mistake to make, I made that one myself too!
The other 2 things you may yet find - is that beans are favorites of bunnies and bugs.
We lost more beans to those until we fenced off the veggie garden area. Even then, I had to resort to a little non-organic work to keep the bugs in check.
BTW - just my take on the term "White trash". To some ears, it is the equivalent to the "N" word. Since blogs are public record, you might want to use care with that type of derogatory term.
Around here, we just call them (and ourselves when we behave it like manner), hillbillies. Still can be offensive, but less so IMHO.
Fortunately, my home is not quite as proximal to the wide open as yours (in terms of bunnies). But I have seen a groundhog, of all things, munching on my greens!
Ah, alas, I know the WT label is horribly un-PC. But seriously, these people are not hillbillies, nor are they rednecks. I have a good measure of respect for country people. No, these people (and my neighbor Buck is actually not amongst their ranks) are embarrassing to the human race. They pop off fire works into the wee hours, drink from noon until past 3 am, having very loud conversations about how drunk they are, have been, and are going to be, and treat their animals and children in ways befitting carpet scraps that you wish the garbage man would haul off.
I wish I could come up with a better term for them, but I use the one that is universally accepted. I'm not afraid of being on the public record being offensive. These people's very existence is a bit offensive to my own.
You guys ought to get a video of Dingo getting in and out of your house. Maybe one of him trying to get to the birds through the window as well. He could pay his way if the video wins on America's Funniest Videos. Wouldn't that be a hoot!?!
Please, for the love of everything that is holy (or whatever), post a wav file or something of that meeting. Please.
Post a Comment