Well, well, well. Life has settled down and I am playing house for a couple of days. Oh, someone ran over a copperhead snake on one of the neighboring streets. Amen. A dead snake is a good snake.
Now, now, I know snakes can be good, but so is broccoli, and I don’t see you chomping down on that everyday. Snakes have beady eyes and no legs, can’t cook or clean and the slither and, good grief, how did I get going on this?
The cows are planters one of our daughters gave us when we were up in Cincinnati. They are Christmas gifts, but she couldn’t wait ti give them to us. They are really cute.
Our other daughter gave me a big bag of Wandering Jew cuttings from the plant we gave her when we moved. It was a magnificent plant. The clippings are in water now and we will then plant them. This will be their third house.
There is something special about taking a plant, a bit of life, from one place to another. It gives continuation of a life.
I really don’t think of the house we left. Thirty years of memories … but I left the sticks and bricks because it was time. I don’t really dwell on those memories, either. But when Our daughter gave me the Wandering Jew, I did picture it hanging on our front porch and then I traced the memory back to when I bought it up at Trader Joe’s flea market up in Monroe, Ohio.
They had great plants … healthy and inexpensive. It was almost as good as eating Esther Price chocolates.
Last night, I walked to our neighbors a house away. We sat out on their new patio and talked. It was a very pleasant evening. We didn’t feel as though we were sitting in an Easy-Bake oven, for a change.
What a treat to, at the end of the day, chat and laugh with people you feel at ease around. I was by myself. Nick had fallen asleep in the recliner.
We discussed the riots in Charlotte. The night before, it was like watching the Gulf War on TV, as the protest/riots, played out in living color.
Color. Race. Black. White. The great divide.
Protests? Yes. Riots. No.
Is there an answer?
We talked landscaping and how fortunate we are to live around nice neighbors.
The other evening the neighborhood kids were out in front of our house and the house next door. They had set up a bike obstacle course in the street. Parents were outside. Nick called me to the window to see it.
Little kids on bikes wove back and forth around the obstacles.
We cracked up. We love that. We live on a street that ins’t too busy. If a car came, the dads grabbed the obstacles and shooed kids to the sidewalks.
It is getting dark earlier and earlier. Last night, I actually walked home in the dark, which is unusual for me as I am almost always in the house in the evening.
The street was quiet as kids were inside, probably in bed. The night sky was dark, but the sidewalk was light. I had my phone-light on so I could see if any snakes had slithered to the sidewalk to bask in the warmth of concrete.
I felt like a kid, running home from Libby’s house, a house away on Moundcrest. I wasn’t afraid of the boogey-man getting me, like I was when I was a kid.
I was excited that I’d gotten to spend time with my good friends, who, thought they were eating dinner when I knocked on their front door, invited me inside to sit at their table with their family, and then to relax outside and share their evening with me.
What more could a person ask for?