A Lazy-ish Summer Weekend, Idyllic As Can Be

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It was a relaxing weekend here.  Nothing special going on, but enough to do to keep us content.

I read an enjoyable novel.

He watched his latest TV obsession.

We went for a walk around the neighborhood noticing that the new houses under construction are very large indeed.

I did laundry.

He repaired and painted the mailbox post while I cleaned the mailbox and numbers.

We went to a triple-A baseball game.

I shopped online for a new lamppost light to replace the worn-out one shown above.

He caught up on work while sitting at the kitchen table.

We ate, for dinner, cold sandwiches instead of cooking hot somethings.

And we drank bottles of beer instead of goblets of wine.

It was a weekend befitting warm August days under clear blue skies.

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So gentle readers and kind lurkers, what did you do this past weekend?

Please tell all in the comments below.

A Chance Encounter With A Neighbor Most Unique

Some of you will remember this neighbor from previous posts…

While shopping at Kroger late in the afternoon on a rainy summer day, I happened to be in the International Food aisle.  There were three shoppers with carts in front of me, and the same number behind me.

I was trapped in the middle of the aisle, waiting, staring off into the distance, waiting, not thinking about a thing, when I heard a woman shouting as she came around the corner into the aisle.

Her voice sounded familiar.

“PASTA.  I need pasta!”

Then *clank, clank, clank* as she bashed into the carts of the shoppers in front of me pushing them aside as she grabbed pasta off the shelf.

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Could it be, I wondered?  Was this determined person none other than the neighbor woman who lives on the other side of the ravine?

The bird hater.

The neighbor who I’ve never seen up-close in real life?

It sounded like her.  Loud.

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To make this chance encounter even more memorable, I saw in front of me a this loud woman dressed in a way that set her apart from the rest of us suburbanites quietly shopping in Kroger.

‘Twas a sartorial look one does not often find around here.  It was unique, with a certain insouciance that made me smile.

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Naturally I wanted to follow her around the store.  My inner Nancy Drew was on high alert.  I needed to know more.

But I was unable to do this because I was trapped in the middle of the aisle, which now had carts + shoppers scattered at all angles.

So I had to watch as she walked away from me, leaving me amazed, and with no one to tell.

Until now.

Herbie OR Cujo: Which One Would You Choose?

When we moved to this subdivision, I realized that one day I’d be faced with a situation in which I’d need to decide, instantly, what to do to keep safe.

You see, this large subdivision, built on hills around creeks, and with curvy roads, has no sidewalks.

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So there I was moseying along, midday, walking on the left-hand side of the street with the sun behind my back.  I was almost to the point in the street where it descends into a valley over a creek bed.

This is when two teenage kids sped by me and lost control of their mother’s van heading down into the valley, almost hitting another car, Herbie, who was driving up out of the valley.

Into the sun.

Where I was walking on the street.

And I realized in an instant that the driver of this other car, an adult who had swerved to miss the kids, could not see me– and that he was heading straight for me.

Unaware.

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Herbie

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So I did what I’d decided that I’d do if when this scenario played out, as I knew that it would eventually.

I ran across a neighbor’s yard, up about 15 feet onto their driveway, heading toward their garage which was open– where their large dog was sound asleep.

And said dog, startled from a nice snooze in the shade, came running full tilt down the driveway barking and growling at me, the intruder.

Not the greatest situation to be in.

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Cujo

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However, as I had always figured, a family dog in this neighborhood, while hellacious toward burglars, raccoons and the Fed Ex man, would never hurt another neighbor in distress.

These dogs are way too domesticated for that.  They know that all of us humans around here have access to treats.  And give delightful belly rubs.

So, while pointing out toward the street, I calmly said to this Cujo wannabe who I had just met: “Hi, sorry to bother you.  Bit of a problem here.  Got to get out-of-the-way of the car.  No big deal.”

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And dagnabbit if he didn’t look at the street, stop barking, started wagging his tail, yawned [!]— and then went back into the garage to continue his midday nap.

Confirming that from his point of view, I was not worth the bother.

Thankfully.

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{Great minds think alike!  Check out what Carrie Rubin at The Write Transition said yesterday about walking in a world without sidewalks.  Click here.}

A Glimpse Into Life With The Beans, Mid-Summer Edition

The Good

Zen-Den went to the grocery and bought everything on the list, including cornstarch.  This, as he pointed out to me, was a big deal because, as he said: “even five years ago I wouldn’t have known what cornstarch was– and would have bought corn meal instead.” 

Congratulations, darling.  You’ve passed GROCERY SHOPPING 201, an intermediate level course in advanced shopping techniques wherein husbands learn to buy exactly that which is written on the list.

Isn’t he something? Let’s give it up for the Z-D.

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The Bad

Influenced by Mad Men [and a bit of nostalgia for my parents], I had a hankering for an Old Fashioned.  So I got out the bourbon and the sugar bowl in which I keep sugar cubes and the Angostura Bitters.  Then I made myself an Old Fashioned using the last of the bourbon.

While my drink sat on the counter below, as I attempted to put the sugar bowl back onto the cupboard shelf above, in a horrible moment of miscalculation, I knocked the lid off the sugar bowl.  It fell onto the counter, shattering into 3 gazillion + 1 pieces, many of which landed in my drink.

Leaving me distraught and drinkless.

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The Ugly

Because of the excessive rain, we’ve not used our screened-in porch as much as we usually do in the summer.  However, the other evening there was no rain, so we decided to go out there to sit.

Almost immediately we both noticed that there were ants walking around on the rug in the screened-in porch.  This is amazing because the porch is up a story from the ground below, but those miserable, icky, sneaky, destructive ants were on. my. porch.

I took off one of my Birks, grabbed it with my hand and started hitting the ants until they stopped moving.  I put the sandal back on when I thought that I’d killed all the ants, but I hadn’t.  So when I saw one last ant moving, in a fit of anger, I stomped down really hard with my sandaled foot on the last ant… and twisted my left ankle in the process.

I hate ants.

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