For a pleasantly scented work area do this:
Result? The most delightfully aromatic keyboard I ever did smell. 🙂
We went to a college football game yesterday afternoon. The weather was clear and crisp with lots of sunshine. Our club seats were wonderful and the home team won.
After watching the marching bands in the halftime show, I’d had enough of sitting in the sun. I suggested to Zen-Den that we go inside to the private eating area and get something to eat. Then I suggested in the most adamant terms possible that we should stay inside in the shade to watch the third quarter on one of the many TVs provided therein. He went along with my idea because: 1) he’s older now and has learned that when he goes to a game he doesn’t have to watch every second of it live to enjoy the game; and 2) I mentioned food.
So, in we went.
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We got our food, found a nice place to sit and were in the process of munching when we heard the marching band. At first we thought that it was on TV but realized that the noise was getting louder and louder. [Hello doppler effect.] The noise was coming from the other side of eating area, so we turned around to see what was happening.
What we saw were 9 members of the flugelhorn section of the home team’s marching band– in full dress band uniform– not quite marching, but kind of kick stepping through the room. [Think John Cleese in the Minister of Funny Walks.] They were playing the home team’s fight song–very loudly and not all that tunefully.
It was Monty Pythonesque absurdity at it’s best. Both of us started to laugh so hard that we were crying.
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We couldn’t figure out why a roaming band of flugelhornists had chosen to visit the club section of the stadium. Was this a reward for them or a punishment for them within the band hierarchy? Was this a reward for those of us who had paid more for club seats– or was it a punishment for those of us who didn’t get invited to the classy box seats on the quiet level above? Who knew?
Nor could we figure out if these were first team flugelhornists– or, as Z-D suggested, the freshman reserve flugelhornists allowed to strut their stuff later in the game when a victory was certain. Considering that they weren’t exactly on key, I’m going with freshman reserve.
I suspect that we’ll never know the answers to these probing questions about the inner workings of Team Flugelhorn. And that’s okay. I like a bit of mystery in my life. But what I do know is that we’ll always remember attending this football game– and our chance encounter with a roaming band of very loud flugelhornists.
I would never of thought that I’d end up living in suburbia.
I’d say I’m more of a city chick– or maybe an old neighborhood near the city chick– or even a historical preservation district in a suburb of a city chick. But not a suburban babe [as my cousin calls me].
Yet, I’m here and I like it. Chalk one up to my ability to adapt. And chalk another one up to my ability to be amused by what goes on around here.
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November is when we have our annual Mom Trails HOA meeting. It’s not mandatory that everyone go to the meeting, and we don’t go. It is mandatory that everyone vote via a paper ballot that is sent to us in the snail mail. You check your choices for the board members; say “yes” or ”no” regarding neighborhood issues; and can add some comments, if you are so inclined. Then you send the ballot back to the HOA.
Pretty standard stuff.
Choosing board members is easy. Very few people want to be on the board, so those who do want to do it seem to be sincere. We’ve been happy with just about everything that the board has done since we moved here. Consequently, we rarely have had any comments to add to the comment section of the ballot.
Things are good, as far as we can tell.
The voting gets more interesting on the “yes” or “no” questions. This is where I get to see what my neighbors are worrying about this year. And, for once, I think that these people are really asking us to decide on something of value to the whole community– rather than the more personal, backstabbing issues that sometimes show up on the ballot.
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So, what are we voting on here in Mom Trails this year? Glad you asked. We are deciding two things.
√ First, we are deciding whether it is appropriate to hang large, non-US flags on our property; and where said flags of all sorts, if allowed, will be hung.
Personally, I don’t care what flag you hang in front of your house. What I care about is how you hang it. That is, don’t hang your large flag from the back of your mailbox post with the flag pointing back toward the house. It is, in my understanding, an insult to whatever the flag is representing; and, as I am driving down the street, it hides from my view whoever might be standing on the other side it.
Not smart.
√ And second, we are deciding if we will upgrade our standard, township-issue, green background/white lettering street signs to something more stylish. Something that will coordinate with our black, historically accurate, reproduction gaslight-style street lights.
Now this is an issue that makes sense to me. Our boring green street signs are difficult to see because they fade into the lawns that surround them. Plus they’re ho-hum. Our street lights, on the other hand, look great and are distinct; you notice them. So, it seems to me that by changing the street signs to coordinate with the street lights we will be able to see our street signs [finally] and add some style [aka resale value] to our subdivision.
Win-win.
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The actual meeting isn’t until later in the month– and because no one on the board seems to know anything about updating our official Mom Trails website– I won’t know what has happened for a while after that. One day, sometime in early December, we’ll receive a snail mail letter telling us the news.
And then, we will think no more about the HOA for another year.
I stopped at Barnes & Noble the other day.
As soon as I stepped inside the store I realized that the entire bookstore was in the process of a major re-do. All the main aisles had long tables extending lengthwise down the middle of them. All the smaller side aisles had push carts piled with books. The place was a mess.
And I couldn’t have been any more pleased.
So, slightly giddy with the sense of adventure that comes from exploring the unknown, I started on a Treasure Hunt— looking at the 80% off books on the long tables. It was like browsing at a library used book sale where you never know what you might find. Naturally I found a few books I needed.
Then I decided to search with purpose for the books that I’d come into the store to buy. That’s when the real fun started as I began my own little game of I Spy.
On the walls were the old signs that told me what used to be in each section of the store– with the new, different books underneath each sign. Which meant that…
I don’t know why this shopping trip entertained me so, but it did. Adventure. Absurdity. New [discounted] books. And a story to tell.
What’s not to like?
… It’s a quiet life I live, but a happy one.
THE SPECTACLED BEAN 