A Chance Encounter With A Neighbor Most Unique

July 29, 2015July 29, 2015 / Ally Bean / 18 Comments

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.

~ ~ • ~ ~

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.

~ ~ • ~ ~

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.

Her hair, think Phyllis Diller in variety shows in the 1960s.
Her build and clothing style, think Bea Arthur as Dorothy Zbornak on The Golden Girls in the 1980s.
Her accessories, think Kristen Wiig as Annie wearing sunnies in the plane scene in Bridesmaids.

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

~ ~ • ~ ~

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?

July 28, 2015July 28, 2015 / Ally Bean / 23 Comments

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.

# # #

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.

# # #

Herbie

# # #

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.

# # #

Cujo

# # #

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.”

# # #

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.

# # #

{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 Summer Afternoon At Home: Rocket Pays Gizzard

July 7, 2015January 28, 2021 / Ally Bean / 17 Comments

Sitting on the screened-in porch. Reading a magazine. Sipping an iced coffee. Late afternoon.

Summer is all around me.

In the distance across the ravine hidden behind the trees I hear kids playing outside. They have a trampoline over there– and they play all sorts of “ball” sports, like football or softball or basketball.

These kids, who are around 8-10 years old, are a happy bunch. Boisterous.

And supportive of each other. I’ll hear some of them encouraging the other ones with “good job” and “awesome.”

There’s rarely an argument.

So, when I become aware of a lull in the kid noise, my ears perk up.

What is this, I think. Not the usual light-hearted chatter. Is there a problem over there in kid-topia?

As if on cue I hear one loud little voice yelling: “Rocket pays gizzard. Rocket. Pays. Gizzard. ROCKET PAYS GIZZARD.”

This child is insistent.

All sorts of other kid voices yell back at him: “That’s not right.”

Then silence. Nary a sound.

Of course now I need to know what they’re up to, so I wait to hear what they will be say next– and much to my surprise I hear an adult voice.

An adult who is laughing while trying to speak.

An adult who has decided to intervene to keep things rolling along smoothly.

An adult who is correcting the kids who are trying to play…

{Answer in comments below.}

My Weekend At Home With A Snotty Hacker

June 16, 2015June 16, 2015 / Ally Bean / 24 Comments

Last week Zen-Den got a cold. This is unusual.

He was traveling for work and somewhere along the way, on a plane or at a hotel perhaps, he picked up a nasty head cold that over the weekend morphed into wheezing and chest congestion.

This condition, as you can imagine, lead to lots of nose blowing and loud coughing. I dubbed him a snotty hacker, which I thought was clever.

He didn’t seem to appreciate my sly sense of humor, clearly showing you that he didn’t feel good.

Snotty hacker. That’s funny. Healthy people would laugh.

Whatever.

So this past weekend, when I wasn’t fetching hot tea or a blanket or a box of Kleenex, I goofed off in my own low-key, dear-lord-it’s-hot-and-humid-outside, kind of way.

The following are my three big takeaways from my time spent, more or less, alone.

I finished watching Grace and Frankie which is a wonderful new, not violent or crude, TV show available on Netflix.

The show, which stars Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin as two straight women whose husbands have left the women for each other, is smart + authentic + funny.

Just a little bittersweet.

And has the most amazing house porn, the sort of which that is usually reserved for movies.

Go watch it now. I give it 5 stars.

Ever since I heard the whole “Call Me Caitlyn” thing, it has bugged me. Not the idea that a human being has the right to do whatever he or she wants to do within and/or to his or her body.

No, that I get.

What has bothered me, I finally figured out, is that a woman born in 1949 would not be named Caitlyn, a name that showed up in the the 1970s. She’d be called Linda, the 1st most popular girl name that year. Or Mary, the 2nd most popular.

And if by chance her name was “Caitlyn” it wouldn’t be spelled all modern-like. It would be spelled Kate Lynn. Shortened for the 9th most popular girl name, Kathleen + basic middle name, Lynn.

Kathleen Lynn. A perfectly acceptable 1940s name.

Right?

I finished reading A Little Salty to Cut the Sweet: Southern Stories of Faith, Family, and Fifteen Pounds of Bacon by Sophie Hudson.

Sophie is a blogger who took her personal stories to the next level by writing this funny, charming memoir. The book, published in 2013, has been on my list of books to read for years, so I’m not exactly talking about it on a timely basis.

No surprise there. My reading is rarely current.

However, be that as it may, I thought that I’d tell you, my gentle readers, that if I could pick a family to join, I want to be part of Sophie’s family. I know that I could fit right in immediately.

I like bacon. And I adore kindness.

Both of which are in abundance in this delightful memoir. Highly recommended.