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.}

“If This Is Correct, Press 1”

I’m in awe of this woman.  I don’t know who she is, but I would not be so gracious under similar circumstances.

Because what happened must happen to her, and her family, almost daily.  And only a bunch of saints could be this cheerful about the mistake I made.

An honest mistake, but a stupid one.

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You see, on Sunday morning around 7:00 a.m. I decided to call the automated Kroger pharmacy line to refill my prescription.  I was out of Restasis, my favorite eye drops ever.

Being half awake + a bit blurry-eyed [see previous sentence] I goofed while dialing the phone for the pharmacy.  Instead of getting the “Hello. Thank you for calling your Kroger pharmacy.” message, I got a real person whose home I’d just called.

The woman who answered said your basic “Hello!” then heard me babble: “Oh no. I dialed wrong. Oh dear. Sorry to have bothered you this early. On Sunday. Oh my.”

And without missing a beat this polite woman said: “Trying to reach Kroger pharmacy?”

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I answered, in a most pathetic voice: “Yes.”

All I heard on the other end of the line was her laugh and then she said: “Our phone number is close to theirs. You just misdialed. Try again. It happens here all the time.”

Grateful to be talking with someone who was not yelling at me for waking him or her up early on a weekend morning, I said: “Thank you. Sorry to have bothered you.”

Then with another laugh I heard her say: “No problem. Bye, bye!”

And so it came to be that on Sunday morning I spoke with a saint.  I now have proof that they walk and talk among us.

Hallelujah & Amen.

My Neighborhood: Not Much Of A Story, But The News Is Good

The economy has perked up around here and with it, the real estate market.  House sales are beginning to happen faster.  That is, houses are on the market for weeks now, instead of for months & months.

Neighbors who are selling their homes are sprucing up what they have, meaning that our street has looked exceptionally nice this spring.  And with the subsequent home sales, we have new younger, active neighbors.

This is a good thing, huh?

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I’m seeing lots of these now.

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I realized the foregoing as I was driving, very slowly, the long way home through our subdivision.  It dawned on me that as well as being outside on the move, many of our new neighbors are driving new cars.  Perhaps I’m overly aware of this sort of thing because I drive a 12 y.o. car, but I was kind of amazed.

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I’m not seeing any of these.

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The cars that I noticed weren’t fancy and/or sporty.  They were Fords or Toyotas or Hyundais, usually trucks or mini-vans or SUVs, middle of the line, practical.  But they were bright + shiny + new.

So that’s what’s up around here.  Not too exciting from a blog story-telling point of view, but encouraging from a midwest homeowners point of view.  Of which I am one.

You gotta take the happy where you find it, eh?

Bunny Haiku & To April I Say Adieu

April is one of my least favorite months of the year.

I’m allergic to it and I don’t groove on all the mud courtesy of the rain and I have to pay taxes and I have to watch on the news while “patriotic” wingnuts get their panties in a wad over what it means to be an American and et cetera, et cetera.

Blah.

However, one thing that I do like about April is that it’s national poetry month.  I didn’t learn much of anything about poetry when I was in college because my English major program was much too practical for such things, but I did learn how to write a haiku.

Thus I give you the following poem, with stunning rabbit-y photos taken yesterday, as my good-bye to April, a month that makes me sneeze like no other month can.

Ah-choo.

Bunny Haiku

Bunny on a hill,

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Spotted me, then turned ’round,

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Now perfectly still.