Remember...

On the start of this holiday weekend I’d like you all to spend a moment remembering exactly why it is you have a day off from work on Monday. Go and enjoy your picnics or whatever you chose to do but take those who gave their lives for your freedom with you in your hearts.

Be safe and have a lovely weekend.

Serious

Around 1 this morning I smelled smoke. The bad kind. The burning building kind, not the yummy barbecue kind. Instant panic as you might guess. From mostly asleep, feeling like I was swimming in thick molasses to wide awake, up and out of bed in seconds. I have smoke alarms and none of them were going off. My house wasn’t smoky, I only smelled it but it still caused a flash of pure terror.

Slightly less petrified, I looked out the window to make sure it wasn’t either of my neighbors. I live in an old city row home. Fire spreads fast. When I made it to the back window, I saw the sky glowing and smoke in the next block. Yeah, I admit it. I let out a little sigh of relief but only a small one because it looked very bad and I hadn’t heard sirens yet.

The block remained closed off at six when I left for work this morning. There were still fire trucks with men climbing around. I read the paper later and yes, it was extremely bad. Three children died. Their parents were severely burned in trying to rescue them.

Sorry. I don’t know what else to say today.

My World

I need a new hot water heater. My old one decided to start leaking Monday. And once they start leaking it’s only a matter of time before they go altogether. I don’t really want to come home to 40 gallons of water on the basement floor so I’m not ignoring it as I do some things. Fortunately I know someone capable who is taking pity on me and will install the new one at a far more reasonable cost than a plumber out of the yellow pages would.

Howie is now all zippy and bouncy, even zippier and bouncier than he was before. I’ve had him for two years and finally took him in for a tune up. He was running fine but I had promised him since I had no idea when his last tune up was so off he went for some pampering at the car spa today. Now he wants to go somewhere farther than our usual local jaunts. Perhaps I’ll charge up my camera and we’ll do some out of town exploring over the weekend.

In kitten news, Beau is a Houdini kitty. I got home the other day to a still-latched empty cage. The big cats were all lounging around the living room, looking sheepish. Instantly I suspected foul play, like maybe they ate him since Beau’s only half a sammich size but then he came prancing out from behind the sofa all proud of himself for escaping. He now has the run of the house even though he’s not very adept at going down the steps and tends to roll head over heals when he tries them. I’m not sure what he did to Quinn this morning but Quinn kept flattening Beau every time he attempted to scoot by him. Beau made it through the day and happily pounced my feet when I got home so Quinn must have tired of that game. Princess Kya’s made it back downstairs though she still hasn’t forgiven me for bringing Beau into her kingdom. At least she hasn’t attacked while I’m sleeping.

How’s everything in your world?

Writer News

Two things today.

First, I got a tremendous review on Controlled Desires from Victoria at TwoLipsReviews. I especially liked her thoughts on the characters’ lack of names. Thank you, Victoria! Go here to read the full review.

Second, my new novella, Second Act, has been accepted by Ellora’s Cave. Happy dance! It’s short and sweet with plenty of spice. I don’t have a release date yet but I’ll keep you posted.

Blurb –

Martin Binks has made it big in Hollywood but there’s something missing from his life. When he heads back to his home town to regroup, he finds it in his high school pal, Josie, now a grown woman with curves in all the right places.

Josie Weston is thrilled when Binks walks back into her life. Not sharing her feelings for him was the one regret she’s always had. She was too timid to act on her fantasies when they were younger but now…

Conspiracies

In the past week I’ve literally picked gallons and gallons of strawberries from my tiny little nothing of a yard. Gorgeous berries the size of plums. I figure they’re so pretty because the yard spirits are tending them as a favor since I haven’t yanked out any of the plants even though I have no space left for flowers. I left them out on the kitchen counter over the weekend and ate a few every time I had to go see what Beau was up to. Nummy but I am not much of a strawberry person.

What I was really waiting for was the ice cream truck to come by so I could slice some in to vanilla soft serve. Naturally it didn’t. No, it never does when I want it to. It only shows up when I have no desire for anything offered. I’m beginning to suspect this is intentional. It’s been suggested I go out to Dairy Queen but that would required getting dressed to go out in public and I’m not sure I’m that interested. Yes, I know the ice cream truck stops in the street but as long as I’m within fifteen feet of my front door it doesn’t count as out in public. Besides, the neighbors are all used to my at home attire by now anyway.

I attempted to do some online banking over the weekend. I signed up for it because I was tired of listening to the constant pitches whenever I went to the bank. Well, not only that. I really don’t enjoy going to the bank so it also sounded like a pretty good deal. Only when I tried to move money I got a flashing notice declaring that I’ve reached my Reg D limit and the transaction couldn’t be completed. Fortunately the bank was still open and I could call to ask what that meant. As it turns out the government will only allow banks to accept a set number of electronic transactions per account per month, after which you must show up in person to complete them. Kind of eliminates the whole advantage to online banking, doesn’t it?

I asked but the very patient girl who got stuck with me had no explanation as to why there’s a cap on such things. I’m sure I could do some research into this and find out a lot more about it but I suspect it would be very dull and probably not provide a sensible answer anyway so I don’t think I’ll bother.

Cookies, Limeade and a Barong

It’s Friday and I had the day off from work. Yay for me! Sometimes you need a day all to yourself to do whatever you please. At least I do.

I didn’t do much. Slept in a little which isn’t easy with my kitties. I figure Beau will eventually eat me when he gets big enough since he spent an hour chewing on my arm today. What a silly little critter he is.

I went to the farmer’s market and got some utterly decadent cream-filled cookies, like whoopee pies only made with huge chocolate chip cookies. Super yummy! If you stop by real soon I might have one left. And if I’m in a really, really good mood and like you a whole lot I might even share it with you. I also stopped for limeade. It’s hot today and I really like that. Hmm, might be pushing your luck if you expect me to share that too.

Driving home in the early afternoon I wondered at all the people roaming the streets of my neighborhood. Most of them didn’t give the impression that they would take kindly to my stopping them and questioning them as to what they were doing wandering in the middle of a traditional work day. I decided my block and the surrounding area definitely had some odd characters.

Not me, of course. Just because I was dancing around like a little kid when I got home and found my new machete had been delivered in my absence I still do not think I fit in to the same classification as they all do. No my odd is different, an oddness unto itself as it were. But I digress. My new machete is soo pretty, 18 inches, all black and sharp with a nifty black sheath to keep it in when I’m not using it. What’s that? Oh yes indeedy, I fully intend to use it but perhaps you’re better off not knowing about that.

Happy weekend everyone!

Blech!

I had a CT scan today.

I don’t do well with being jabbed in the arm. Even though the woman today was excellent, I will still be bruised for days. At least she didn’t use any tape that usually pulls eighteen layers of skin off like they do sometimes.

I don’t do well with the dye they use though it is marginally better than it was years ago. At least I didn’t pass out, scream or need to curl in a ball on their table for an hour.

I don’t do well being told to hold my breath. I can do it on my own when I’ve been told to listen for a certain sound and then not breathe. But being told to stop breathing? Nope. Seriously can’t do it. At least I managed to hold still enough for them to scan what they needed to and I did it without panicking or bursting into tears.

But I do even less well with being in non-stop pain for weeks on end which is why I put myself through this today. It took a week for me to decide it wasn’t going away on its own. And then almost a week to get an appointment. Another week’s wait for the scan. Only one more week to go before I go back and find out what they’re going to do to fix it.

Good thing I’m tough. Or maybe it’s just like everything else. I’ve gotten so used to hurting now that I’m only a tad grumpy these days. Yeah, that’s most likely it.

Life goes on…

The Cuteness Brigade

The five baby kittens went to their new homes yesterday. As expected momma cat is very upset with me. But they had to. The other choice, to leave them on the street, was not an option.

The little tiger kitty is now ensconced in my house. My other fur babies are not at all happy with me. Bixby, who will be 19 in two weeks, rolled his eyes and went back to sleep. Harry and Kya are in hiding and Quinn is standing guard, growling non-stop.

Beauregard, Beau for now until he grows into the rest of his name, is fearless. He’s smaller than Quinn’s head but not at all intimidated. He’s exploring and trying to make friends even though Quinn is trying his best to appear threatening. For his own safety I’m crating him when I’m not home but that won’t last long. Soon as he grows a bit, he’s less than a pound now, he’ll have the run of the house and I’m sure he’ll take over in no time.

In the News

Locally, the city council is mad that no one told them the city borrowed $11.5 million from the sewer fund last year. The mayor’s response was oops, sorry, shoulda mentioned it but he leaves that stuff up to the financial guys and he didn’t know it was that much either. Well now doesn’t that just fill me with confidence? As it turns out the city has been routinely borrowing from and repaying the sewer fund for years. Even after the U.S. Department of Justice gave a cease and desist order. Ooh is we in trouble now! The city finance director was quoted in today’s paper as saying he knows they’re not happy with it. Ya think? But seriously, what I want to know is why the sewer fund seems to have so much money just sitting in it. Is it a hedge fund in case something huge goes wrong all at once or isn’t the city maintaining things as they should?

There’s a public hearing on the Act 47 proposal Wednesday night and no, I’m not going. Everyone I know is saving up their money to pay their taxes so no one would be able to come bail me out once I got myself arrested for not shutting up.

In other local news, the red-bellied turtles are holding up a bridge replacement. The bridge has already been closed for over three years and will remain closed indefinitely as long as there’s evidence that the turtles are sill in residence. I say evidence because these are very shy and elusive turtles. No one actually sees them, just their nests and eggs. Now I think it’s a good thing to protect the turtles but I bet next time I lose my mind and read the paper there’ll be an article on how much of a cost overrun there is to relocate them.

Statewide, it’s time to start repaying the state and school employee pension fund. They are proposing a 30 percent increase per school district taxes in order to do so. Please refer to yesterday’s blog where I said no. As in hell no! The current teacher’s union president is appalled by the suggestion of switching to a 401k plan for new employees. Well I’m appalled with him for being so narrow-minded at the thought of change. Change that must occur in order for his union members to have anything whatsoever. Make it a matching 401k program if he insists on having employers contribute. But expecting taxpayers to continually and permanently take up the slack and ensure a retirement program is outdated and unrealistic. Did I mention that I have no more to give? Continue the trend of always raising my taxes to pay for everything and anything and I will help lead the revolt.

In good news, yeah, imagine that. There is some. The local natural gas company has proposed a two-part rate decrease. Yes, you read that correctly. A decrease. As always there will be public hearings on the issue. I suppose legally they have to but is it really necessary? I can’t imagine anyone showing up to protest that their bill is going down for a change. Just think. If I don’t lose my house because of the taxes I might actually be able to have a little heat in it next winter.

One final tidbit from world news. Even though he did it somewhat reluctantly, Portugal’s president ratified a law allowing gay marriages. Why? Because he felt it was more important to focus his time and energy on his country’s crippling economic crisis and try to find solutions for the increased unemployment and worsening poverty levels of his people. Mmm hmm.

Oh by the way. When I voted this morning at 7:50 I was number 17. What number were you?

A Bit of a Rant

Tomorrow is Election Day in PA. Make sure you get out and vote. Only you can change the way things are and if you don’t vote, you forfeit your right to bitch. At least in my house you do. I’ve actually asked people to leave when they wouldn’t stop complaining after not bothering to vote and yes, I will do so again should the need arise.

In spite of how that sounds I’m really not a very political person. Nor do I pay much attention to the news most days. But there’s been enough stir about Arizona and illegal aliens for even me to notice. Um, sorry, I don’t get it. If they decided to verify which average white, er, European American girls were legal and which were not I’d have no problem being questioned. After all, weeding out the illegals will save my tax money and then maybe I could afford to remain alive, something which is becoming debatable.

You see the Act 47 folks who are supposedly stepping in to save Reading have decided that the best way to do so is to raise my property taxes 15 percent over the next two years and my city earned income tax another half percent on top of the two they increased it last year. That is on my wages that have now been frozen for the third year. Yep, being punished for working and owning a home yet again. The powers that be seem to have missed the last time I blogged about this so I’ll say it again. No! There is no more for me to give. Come up with something else because I refuse to accept this. Time to through the tea in the harbor. Or the Schuylkill as it were.

Although, I am now part of the minority in Reading. And I’m quickly approaching the sub-poverty level. I wonder how long it will take for me to become eligible for all the various programs I was banned from as a member of the majority? I wonder if I can now host my own segregated parade without someone screaming discrimination? Do I now qualify for my own history month and do I get my own neighborhood center? Will billboards now be required to have English translations?

Hmm, I better quit now since I seem to be drifting away from my original point. What was it again? Oh yeah, I remember. Go vote on Election Day. Make a difference.

Yay!

It's Friday. Yay! It's about to storm. Yay! I have fun stuff to do. Yay! So before I head out I'll leave you with your daily dose of cuteness.

Happy weekend!

One Extreme to the Other

This week I’ll give you a choice for your weekend activities in Reading.

On Sunday, at the Feeney Home, there’s a free concert, part of the Centre Park Mansion series. It starts at noon with a violinist and continues at 1:00 with eight opera singers performing selections from La Boheme. After the concert there will be time to tour the Feeney Home. It’s one of those gorgeous old homes located in the Centre Park District. It’s also a funeral home. The ad isn’t specific but I suspect a tour of the embalming room is not included. Admission is free.

Your other choice, should that be too tame for you is to go out and milk snake venom. I was chatting with an individual today who actually does that. He has special containers he carries with him as he goes out snake searching. When he finds one, say a rattlesnake, he snags it, gets it to bite the jar to release the venom and then releases it. The venom is then dropped off at a collection site at one of the local hospitals where it is transformed into antivenom for use when someone comes in who has been bitten. No, this doesn’t pay much. It’s more of a public service type thing. Any type of poisonous snake venom can be collected. If you’re seriously interested contact me and I’ll put you in touch with this gentleman.

A tiny side note which I think is of interest. There is a big discussion going on to cap the fees charged by ATMs. At fifty cents! Way better than the three dollars some places charge, isn’t it? I do generally try to go to my bank in order to avoid the fee altogether but you know how it is. Every now and then you need money right then and there and can’t get to the appropriate bank.

Okay so after I posted this I was chatting with someone who actually knows about snakes and the first gentleman was basically making it up as he went along. You can’t really milk snakes in the field, hospitals do not prepare their own antivenom and rattlesnake bites are more often than not treatable with first aid measures, not antivenom. So scratch that off your list of possible activities for the weekend.

Do Not Try This At Home

It began innocently enough. An offhand comment made on a not so good day. A question tossed out by a friend. A few lines of discussion before moving on. Only my mind didn’t move on. No, it latched onto the snippet and let it roll round and round until it formed a complete thought. And once it had there was no way it would ever go away without being experienced. But it was wrong, so wrong, and I couldn’t possibly. Could I?

My friend and I met up at a club as we do on occasion. It was getting late and we were enjoying ourselves, making fun of those who were becoming desperate. You know, the last call for sex, not alcohol, crowd. I’m average, to say the least, nothing special to look at. I spend my life being invisible, drifting along, observing, absorbing, without ever really being noticed. Fine by me. I like it that way. I can always tell when the natives are beginning to get restless about going home alone because that’s when their attention focuses on me. It generally amuses me. My friend too. That night, however, there was one guy in particular who was being a flat-out, over the top jerk of untold proportions. He was truly pathetic in his attempts to secure me for his night’s entertainment. Not that I’m not worth that level of effort. I definitely am, just not without knowing a damn thing about me first.

Normally I would have blown him off, had a good chuckle over it with my friend, and forgotten him instantly. I might have, had that thought not still been lurking in the fringes of my mind. He was persistent, I’ll give him that. No matter how blatantly I ignored him, he just wouldn’t go away. His mistake came when he reached the height of desperation and offered me whatever I required if only I would accompany him home. That’s when my friend met my eyes and nodded. He knew what I was thinking and was encouraging me to go for it. Oh my, just the idea of it had my juices flowing, especially since I wasn’t alone in my desires.

I told the soon to be victim that I would go off into the night with him under one condition. That he made me come as soon as we were outside, before we got in his car. Agreed. With his mouth. Agreed again. So, with a quick grin to my friend, out we went.

There was a walkway beside the club that led to a small, unused patio. It was lit by a nearby streetlight but walled and secluded, perfect for what I had in mind. Lucky for me I happened to be wearing a skirt, sans panties which was pretty much the norm for me. Victim number one tried to kiss me but I was having none of that. I didn’t want him getting that personal with me and I was more than ready for what I’d requested.

There was a forgotten crate that was the perfect height. I nudged it so it was in the light, letting him think it was so he could get a good look at the way my pussy was glistening with wetness, supposedly from his impending attention. Actually it was so my friend, who had followed silently, would have a good view of all that occurred.

I parted my thighs wide and told him to suck my clit. I was feeling rather needy by then and wanted to get right to it. He didn’t even hesitate to fall to his knees and bury his face in my crotch. Surprisingly, his technique wasn’t nearly as bad as I’d expected. He licked, sucked, tongued and fingered me. Oh yes, very well done indeed. Of course the knowledge of what was to come may have had something to do with enhancing my excitement. I was whimpering, moaning, shivering. My pussy flooded, rewarding him for his efforts.

I looked up. My friend had stepped from the shadows and was watching us intently. The expression on his face, pure animalistic delight, pushed me right to the edge. He inhaled deeply as if scenting me. That did it. I was ready to come. So I slipped the tiny ice pick from the wide leather bracelet I wore as a sheath, a gift from my friend for protection when I went out. I ordered the jerk to fuck me deep with his tongue. As soon as he had it shoved all the way into my clenching pussy, his nose mashing my pulsing clit, I clamped my quivering thighs around his head, holding him in place. I leaned forward, gasping in pleasure as I grabbed a handful of his hair. The instant my orgasm rocked through me I lifted my arm and jabbed the ice pick into the base of his skull. I came so hard I thought I was going to pass out. Damn, it was so good!

And then, before I was fully alert, my friend was there. He extracted the pick and wiped it clean on the poor sap’s horrid plaid shirt. He pried open my thighs, letting my first corpse slump as he helped me to my feet. He straightened my skirt and I felt his hardened cock brush my hip. So that answered the second question. Watching was as much of a turn on as doing. After kissing me thoroughly, he slipped the ice pick back into its sheath and led me from the patio.

I’m sure there’s a lesson for everyone in this. Whether it be to watch what you say to your friends for you never know what they’ll take to heart or that you be careful who you approach in your desperation since looks can be deceiving I’ll leave for you to determine.

I Deserve a Reward

Why? Because I did not go out today and purchase a fly swatter. But it was so very tempting. No, not because there’s a sudden pre-season fly infestation in Reading. Had I gotten one today I would have utilized it to swat the annoying people who crossed my path. Some of them more than once because trust me, they more than needed it. Yep, working my last nerve today.

I also deserve a reward for eating greens at lunch. Now just because the green happened to be in the form of a pistachio muffin I still say it counts towards the daily veggie quota. If it’s the proper color, it’s a vegetable. Just like margaritas count as citrus fruit. That’s right, lime in color means it falls under the lime classification. Perhaps I should have had margaritas with my muffin. I’ll have to work on doing better with that, making sure I get the daily recommended requirements of fruits and vegetables.

It’s strawberry season in my yard. Woohoo. Could you hear the sarcasm in that? Strawberries are only slightly better than bananas as far as I’m concerned. And no, I’m not real thrilled with strawberry daiquiris so the above does not apply for this one. I can’t yank out the plants because that would anger the yard spirits and then they might stop taking care of the other things growing out there. So I come home every day and dutifully pick the berries that have ripened. I haven’t looked yet but I’m really hoping that it was cloudy and chilly enough today for there to not be any more ready. And this is only day three. It’s going to be a long month.

There is apparently much happening in the local kitty neighborhood surrounding my house. For the past week, the cat who strolls by and chats with my cats on occasion has been there every evening. Now that the windows are open I hear him calling to them as soon as he hits the end of the yard. He stands on the cellar door, peering in the window and trills and chirps all the goings on to my kitties. I’ve learned to not walk by while he’s visiting because I always get that displeased cat look if I do. I’m not sure what he’s telling them but they seem very excited by his daily reports.

Babble from Beneath the Bridge

Burbling biddies bray
Behead the bastard before breakfast

Bombs bombard the embattled bastions

Broken battalions battle on
Bypassing the blitz brokered by the bitter bourgeoisie

Brawling blood kin berate brothers bent on burning bridges

Brigadiers brazenly boff beatific boys
Bored and boring by bedtime
As they break befitting bylaws

Bureaucracy bans bands banging out bebop on burial barges

Best buds buy benzos on the black market
Bringing bits of bliss to their burned out brains

Beggars bundle bootleg booze beneath baggy boxers
Bargaining for bread with bodacious brats

Bouncing babies born of the bottom of the barrel burp bubbles of blood
While bleached blondes banter banally
Buying bullets in bulk from backroom bosses

Boardrooms become buckled Babylons
Because bent braggarts bemoan bona fide business behests
Blatantly bestowing baubles by the billion
On the baser bits of the beau monde

Bells bing and bong
Bringing bowed blessings to the baleful body of beastly beasts

Even bumblebees buzz the bereaved as they beat the bushes for bucolic balance

A big bubble of bad blankets across the board, bar none

Kittens!

One of the street cats that wanders the neighborhood where I work had kittens just over two weeks ago. Five of the cutest little balls of fluff ever. There’s a black and white, a white and black, a tan tiger, a gray tiger and a black tiger. Yes, they’re who I’ve been posting pictures of the last few days.

The mom cat has them tucked into a cabinet on the second floor porch of the building I work in. She’s skittish but not tremendously so for a street cat and I suspect she had people way back when. She does understand that we provide food. Also, and this is the best part, she gets that I am not going to hurt her babies which means I’ve been playing with them every day at lunch.

It’s very difficult not to scoop them all up and take them home with me. I’ve asked my kitties if we could have a baby but they’re being tough and giving me that look as only a disgruntled cat can so the ladies I work with and I are trying to find them homes. Otherwise they’re going to end up being taken to the local shelter since we don’t want them to become street cats too.

Anybody want to adopt a super sweet adorable kitten?

National Train Day

On Saturday May 8th Amtrak will celebrate the third annual National Train Day with events scattered across the country. It commemorates the day the first transcontinental railroad was created. 141 years ago, on May 10, 1869, in Promontory UT, the “golden spike” was driven into the final tie that joined 1776 miles of the Central Pacific and Union Pacific railways.

The four major cities participating are Washington, DC, Philadelphia, Chicago and Los Angeles. Each city will host special events detailing various aspects of the history of trains. Philadelphia, which is closest to me, is doing a feature on how baseball teams used to travel by rail to get to games. There will also be exhibits on trains and the economy, going green, equipment, culinary demonstrations, models and Amtrak’s tie in with the National Park Service.

If you go to the event website there is a place to click that lists the locations of all the festivities. Each is a little bit different, depending on where it’s held but all look to be a lot of fun. If you’re not busy Saturday you might want to find the one nearest to you.

Every Night Erotica

There’s a new web magazine in town. Every Night Erotica began publishing an erotic short fiction story every night at 9 pm as of May 1st. They are offering all genres of erotica so as soon as they build their archives a bit there will be a hot little something for everyone.

If you go to their website you can sign up for your free subscription and have it delivered to your inbox every evening. They have a whole slew of authors contributing, some new, some well-known. What better way to sample a tidbit of their work? Yep, it really can’t get any easier than these folks are making it for you.

Also, if you’re an aspiring writer, why not try your hand at this? They will read short, publication-ready pieces, under 2000 words and their turn around time on getting back to you is super fast. There are instructions on their website on how to submit your stories to them. Just think, in a few weeks time people all over everywhere could be reading your words!

And guess what! My little story, Once Begun, is scheduled for May 6th. If you haven’t already read it, you’ll want to.

Pondering

I was listening to a conversation today. Couldn’t understand a word they were saying. Which, at the moment, struck me as very odd for some reason. So I listened a bit more carefully and they were speaking English after all. Not heavily accented, hard to make out English. Plain old ordinary hear it all the time English. No, I wasn’t particularly involved in any sort of deep thought. No, there wasn’t some sort of high drama going on around me. I just had a moment when English quit making sense. Fortunately, or perhaps not, it’s over and I understand again. I wonder if I’d be able to suddenly understand some other language if English hadn’t come back?

What I don’t understand is why there are three nearly empty school buses that stop within the same block every morning. One is a handicapped bus with the ramp in the back. The other two, however, don’t seem to have any special features and the kids that hop on to them look to be about the same age. Maybe the block near my house is the beginning of their routes though that seems a bit unlikely since I’m not at the end of the city limits. Still, couldn’t they consolidate and save some gas purchased with my tax money?

I called up my satellite TV provider a few weeks ago and asked them to turn off my service. I don’t really watch much TV to begin with and now that they had a fight with Comcast they no longer carry Versus which means I can’t watch the Tour-de-France anyway so why pay all that money for basically nothing? I do sort of miss the Travel Channel. Not enough to have it turned back on just for that. The neighbors immediately next door have entrusted me with a key to their house since they lock themselves out all the time. They’re very nice people who aren’t home all that much. If there’s something I really, really think I absolutely have to watch I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if I wandered in and borrowed their TV since they borrow various stuff from me all the time.

I flipped through the local visiting nurses circular today. On the back cover was a full page ad for funeral and cremation plans offered by a nearby funeral home. Don’t know why but I can’t decide if that’s funny or wrong.

New Neighbors

New people moved on to my block Friday. Two houses away from me. I have nothing against new people in general but these have already managed to be annoying two out of the three days they were here.

One of the first things they did was set up a table and chair set outside. Nothing wrong with that. But then they proceeded to hang out all night. Very loudly. With small children who were obviously tired. You know that obnoxious half-whine, half-sob they do. Yeah, the kids were doing that. For hours. While the so-called adults drank and ignored them as they set off fireworks within ten feet of the house. Thank goodness we’ve been having a lot of rain lately. I’m not going to like them much if they burn down my house.

Perhaps it was just a moving in bash that went on for two nights. Don’t get me wrong. I agree you must feed the people who help move you. But, since they have this nice table and chair set, I suspect it’s not an isolated weekend. Hmm, it is a nice table and chair set. And it’s not chained down so there’s a good chance it’ll vanish. Hopefully soon.

Two things I’m not sure of. One, how many of the motley crew actually live there. Two, how their presence in the yard at night will go over with the guys who shoot in the alley. Could be a very interesting summer.

I so need to move!