Breathing in a Lovely Sunday

We don’t venture out to breakfast nearly enough! We took a nice sized drive to pick up my mother and her husband so that we could celebrate my step-dad’s 56th birthday. Upon arriving, I finally saw the gutted out living room, rug and couch-less. It didn’t look nearly as bad as she’d promised me. What a rip off.

They’d gotten rid of all their more porous furniture due to a bed bug infestation that started with an expensive trip to Bob’s. A grand and change later, they had a beautiful new bed. The only thing missing was the map to all the various colonies and villages founded by the bed bugs. Fresh hell. A year later, they are also without furniture and no reimbursement. Not even a small wadded up piece of paper thrown out of a van drive by that says “Sorry”.

We went to a place for breakfast that still continues to focus on the 1950’s. We rather enjoyed a number of photos of Lucille Ball, Henry Winkler and even one photo signed by Cindy Williams, aka “Who?” by my mother’s memory. LAVERNE AND SHIRLEY MA! LAVERNE AND SHIRLEY!!

My Humanling played that game called “I’m Full, Now Can I Go Play that Video Game Over There?” Game Fail! So she had to concentrate more on her secondary choice, Sulking.
We had a really good time though, despite my honey’s aches and pains from sitting in booths that were carved out and used on the set of the Flintstones (cartoon version). You need a lot of butt to cushion those seats and neither of us are armed with the Standard American Diet so we lose.

We currently have coffee brewing…ahhh……

I am waiting for the honey to come back from errands in order to be somewhat courteous, but I think I’m going to just pour it anyway. I plead “I drink slower than you”.

Finally I was getting out the door to take my 2 mile walk and feed my crows. Close by is a girl around my own age and she takes care of the property across the street. That includes a couple of horses, lots of chickens and a handful of cats. We started up one of those nice neighborly conversations and my walk turned into my coffee chat without the java. It was really nice though. Just chillin’ out with another female, talking about all kinds of things. And before I left she offered to have Humanling come and ride the horses as therapy (moody girl with epilepsy). She believes horses heal….they just know what to do. What a most gorgeous offer…so big that baking numerous apple pies for her probably wouldn’t even cover it. The crows during all this chatting patiently waited in a nearby tree. I’d thrown food down for one of them during our conversation and they’d found us a bit close to the peanut pile for comfort. However, my most social and brave one absolutely gave it his best. Then he and the other waited in the tree for my walk by.

Eventually I paid mind to a little sustenance. Humanling and I shared apple slices, giving the guinea pigs the peels. Then we moved on to the devilled eggs with smoked paprika that I made yesterday. I’ve found that the quickest way for us to use up our eggs if we’re getting a surplus is to make devilled eggs.

I have crabs. There. I said it. And I needed to change their tank today. I’ve had crabs for about eight years and at the highest had about nine. I currently have two. The poor things….I put off changing their sand for so long that the sand has learned English along with some American holiday customs. The poor little crustaceans…I’m fairly certain they are in Shell Shock (get it?). I used to really enjoy watching the little society that they eventually have if you put enough of them in there. Now I feel bad that the laundry piles up on the dresser like clouds in front of the sun. Only I am not the culprit most of the time depositing high laundry traffic and leaving it there. Ahem.

As the day winds down, I find that I never did get in my walk, as I usually want to do. But I traded it in for good company with a neighbor, which weighs out to be like that Friday night Ice Cream for Dinner thing. The walk is good for me but the talk with her is another kind of good, and one that I don’t have enough. A little bit of a hermit, but not an anti-social skulk when it comes to conversational skills, I do appreciate a fine quality chat.

Small Deals in the CT Hood

{An angry man's raised voice} "I want my money. You could have come to Stacy's house. You know where she lives. Where's my money?"

"I got money coming to me in a couple of days. I got it coming this weekend"

"That's gonna fuck my body all up. I don't have a couple of days. I need it now"
{Door closes}

********

I love living here. Quaint, affordable and all one needs to do is put their ear up to the door for the newfound inspiration to double lock the door.

Too Close to Home

Humanling and I did a snow dance tonight.

It's December and its time for snow. It can all pack up and go away in January, but right now its a really nice layer of Happy on the season. Well, that and I can work from home if school is closed.

Oh what will I write about when my neighbor moves out? You know the guy - with the Trader Joe's Truffle Eyes. All of about 21 years old, if that. The guy with the "friends" who enjoy passtimes such as punching girls in the nose....or.....showing what category drunk they make (Hint: does not qualify for "Happy" drunk)....or....having to draw drama out of innocently standing by energies and yelling in the hallway at people that "Oh, YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT ME?"

There is so much energy on this planet for us to work with in such a magical way.

We can get punched noses in video games, on HBO, shit, on the Disney channel probably. Why must we waste beautiful energy manifesting this stuff? Other people at least get PAID for it.

Humanling stressed to me during the tirades that she really really wanted me to go over there and make it stop. And I felt strange. She was treating me like a dude. Like I could only hope that they were having a Shallow Hal moment when I barged over there, all 95 lbs and 2 apples taller than a standard 80s Smurf and thought they saw something very large and very enraged.

I realized that I'm pretty much all there is. So any issue in the house is my job technically. I'm good at rigging things and have rigged this situation for myself when I was younger...but couldn't rig it for her. I had to make it stop.

As I sat trying to ignore it (because confronting non humourous drunks is a hobby that I never took up), I kept feeling very sick every time the guy's voice raised. I couldn't relax.

I remembered. That's what it was. 3am and I'm six or seven. The yelling starts downstairs, the man's voice is raising, the woman's voice is raising. My head goes under the blankets and my stuffed animal, Henry is in my grip. Something smashes. Something else smashes. Woman is screaming now and my fingers go into my ears. I start to grind my teeth very loudly and quickly trying to white noise the inside of my head. It doesn't totally drown out the physical abuse that I can hear, or the woman screaming in pain - both physical and emotional.

Eventually there is silence....and I gage a long enough silence that I can slowly grip my Henry and tentatively move downstairs, toward where I can hear my mom crying.

The panoramic view shows everything busted up and all over the floors, the counter, outside. I would go stand in front of my mom and try to hug her, but not say anything. I never said anything. I would just start cleaning. Find the broom, pick up glass, glue things together. It might be 4am when I was done.

I realized tonight what I was reacting to as I heard them. Humanling played the role of me and I wanted to fix it for her and make it stop. She shouldn't have to be scared and hear all that. She shouldn't have to know this. I really knew this.

I finally walked out into the hall hoping that the drunk either didn't have a weapon, or if he did, couldn't tell which one of me to aim for. I stood looking at the door and Humanling stood behind me. I yelled to the door.

"Do you need some HELP in there?!"

Truffle Eyes came out, calm as a coma and apologized for his company's apparent lack of arena & bull. I told him that this has been going on all night, it needs to stop and the Ling is on her way to bed and is scared by the noise. She said to him herself, "It scares me."

I tried also to be empathetic and said that I don't want anyone dying over there. That if I think someone is getting hurt, I'm going to call 911 or that Humanling would, because she really would (and has in the past for farts & giggles with my only warning being the two cop cars that sharked into my driveway immediately after). He told me that its ok, that maybe it would be good if I called.

That's not what I want to do though. He's only here for one more month. But his company clearly is not finding their Happy Places....ever. It's like its taped onto the end of a telescope and they keep walking towards it but never take the lens away from their eye.

More yelling just now.....and my teeth have certifiably been noted by prior dentists that the grinding really did leave some evidence (grinding my teeth because a standard fight or flight escape for me from that time on but has ceased as an adult thankfully).

So I said this: {opens door}........{clean and swift SLAM!}.

I heard someone leave with a few kind words about a fat f**k and hopefully the curtain has closed on this childhood memoir for tonight. After all, I got weather to bribe.

Neighbors and Other Things That Happen To Drift In My Snowglobe

I really like my neighbors. I'm talking about my physical living space - as in my druggie boys across the hall (Shady and Charming), my 85 year old neighbor downstairs who I bring one fat tomato to each time I visit the Farmer's Market once a week, (except that just ended) and my neighbor behind me who takes it upon himself to be the eyes and ears around here, making sure that we're all safe.



There are a few others of course, that I don't know as well but probably will at some point. Especially the ones who are moving in upstairs. I hope the circumstances aren't that I introduce myself while asking them why they don't look like the hot vampires that I read about since the only noise they make is late at night.....and I don't mean pussy footing across the floor to change the channel. I'm talking LET'S HANG 90 FRAMED THINGS ON THE WALL WITH A HAMMER AND NAILS at 11:30pm.



They did put up a cute fall foliage basket thingy in the hall though, so I'm assuming they are sort of okay poser vampires.



You could really base the Sesame Street mantra "Who are the People in Your Neighborhood" on this particular hood. The kid across the street who fixed my car waves to me as I hop in the car in the morning. Those crazy gas station employees who know everyone and have shouting conversations with me as I stand on my deck hanging out the laundry. The Predictable Passerby in the morning while Humanling and I wait for her bus. Especially the one that I knew before Miz Eye was born. He used to be a town drunk, walking around with a frightening scowl on his face. Now he's cleaned up a bit, nice haircut, walks to the city bus stop every morning after stopping at the gas station for his coffee and newspaper. I love watching him walk by. I like that he seems to have gotten things together a bit better (although for all I know, he went from Drunk to Functioning Drunk). I like seeing people do well for themselves, even if its all in my head.



After Humanling is picked up by her bus, I hop in my car and pass the Ex (maybe) Drunk. He sits on a quaint wooden bench, newspaper open, hair looking all clean and cut nice and his coffee, sitting in one of many places. In his hand, on the bench next to him or on the ground near his workbooted foot.



Something about this scene just makes me happy. It might be the trust level he has in placing his coffee anywhere. I can't do that. The freak in me has to shield the top from bird poop. My eyes must be on it at all times. No putting it on top of the car for even a second while fumbling with full hands. Not for me. So this guy's freedom in keeping it 'wherever' just has me in awe.



Sometimes I say hi to him as he passes us. Sometimes I'm busy brushing Humanling's hair or running up and down the stairs seven times for things forgotten or OCD Is the Stove On items of ilk.



He's part of my neighborhood.



As is the boy who must be in his last year of high school by now. A larger boy, his back pockets sunk down to his knees, long hair growing past the dreadlock and into just messy stage. For the last few years I have seen him. I've lived in three different places in this town in the last few years. I'd see him walking from school to the local coffee shop. Many times I see him sitting outside the coffee shop with friends or alone. At one point in time, he was never apart from a girl, who he seemed to really be into. They'd sit on the couch of the coffee shop, he, kissing her cheek.



Suddenly I didn't see her anymore. Slowly I realized that all my viewings of him were without her. And just like a soap opera, I'd gotten caught up and let down by the storyline.



Now I see him sitting on a bench, usually with friends. After all these years, and my joking around that there's "my friend" to whoever I was walking with, we do say hello. We are reciprocating scenery for each other.



I went out today with my coffee guy. He's off on Sundays. I envy (in a good way) that he works for himself. And that his shop is cool. And that he is surrounded by coffee! Walking into his shop makes me stop suddenly. I am forced to close my eyes and take a deep breath. I wouldn't be able to stop this response if the place was crumbling around me. It's become an innate body sense. Humanling, The Roaster and I went out to a diner and let me say that the coffee there was like an insult. Afterwards we all went to the local coffee shop and played games with Humanling and chatted. Like neighbors.



Earlier this week, our 85 year old neighbor who can't walk well, fell outside and the Roaster found her. He threw her arm around his neck and carried her inside. She is clearly shaken by this event, as her legs have never failed her this badly. But she nearly speaks with tears in her eyes that the Roaster saved her.



I have the most awesome Effing neighbors.



And then I have you. My virtual neighbors. The first person to ever comment on my blogs...Alan and brought me further in a bit. The people who drop by, who comment, who don't. I love swinging by your place and I'm happy to see that you've swung by mine. I'm inspired and I learn from you. You are my news. I wouldn't watch any other. I'll probably find out who is President from one of you.



One more shout out - to The Neighbor himself.



Hi Neighbor.

Won't You Be....Won't You Please....Please Won't You Be....My Neighbor

I'm a damn good neighbor. My only criteria of that is not calling the cops when my drug dipped neighbors have psycho girls punching, biting and burning people and then yelling underneath my bedroom window "JUST TELL ME WHAT I DID WRONG!"

My neighbors moved in a few months ago. I rather like them enough. They're mere kids. A couple of guys and they have a lot of 'traffic' going through. There's even a 'look out' guy who I like to address as Shady.

But the guys and they're friends/customers/frontmen are all nice to me and the Humanling. So I really don't care what they are doing behind their wooden door, so long as it doesn't involve my fire alarm needing to go off.

The first paragraph up there is actually a rerun of 24 hours ago.

As I held two juicy tomatoes today (I hate tomatoes but I buy them at the farmers market every weekend for the 85 year old woman downstairs. Actually, I buy her one. My sink overflowed into her apartment this week though, so this time I got her two.) Humanling called to me that the neighbor (not Ned) wanted to speak with me. The tomatoes and I complied.

He wore a Brooklyn sweatjacket and stood before me looking serious. He wanted to apologize for the noise last night. He explained that it was his girlfriend that was heard in the metro area, screaming last night. Apparently there is a drug issue (did I mention that before?) only she wasn't having the usual cocktail and blatantly was touchy feeling with some other guy in this dude's apartment. He walked in on it and she didn't attempt to stop what she was doing. So he asked her to leave. That one request caused at least three people to get punched in the face, bit and burned with cigarettes.

I now applaud my decision last night, mid irritation, not to open the window or go downstairs and confront. I pulled a Ghandi, I stayed peaceful, and it eventually subsided.

Brooklyn showed me his arm. A two inch burn slide. He seemed pretty legit about it.

Within four more minutes, I knew that a move to another state had gotten messed up because of his father who he hadn't seen since he was five. That the girlfriend was supposed to move down but didn't and he came back to be with her.

I was informed about the other roommate who is slipping off methadone back into the real deal. And how Brooklyn basically goes for a walk alone sometimes or stays in his room to avoid all the traffic. Originally I thought they were one big happy Plant farming family over there.

Whenever Humanling and I walk up the mutual hallway and the telltale smell and fog tap our senses, I unlock the door muttering, "I see Cypress Hill is home."

I have no issues with their stuff behind their doors. And I applaud the boy for coming to apologize to me. And .... I felt the impulse to fix it. But what could I do - hand him a Gregg Braden book and a candle?

Within an hour, I ran into another acquaintence outside. This one probably in his early 50s. The answer to "How've you been?" was a mini-series. He's hooked up with a crack addict who's ex fought him in January. Then he had some medical thing and lost his job in May. Only to get hit in the crosswalk by a truck. Another impulse to lift to the light and make it better.

If I weren't married to His Royal Turdness for a year and a half, I wouldn't understand it. And because of that marriage, I want peace for these guys more than they'd ever know.

Joe Jonas is performing a duet with Miss Piggy as I write this. I don't have Humanling as a hall pass since she's in bed sleeping. I know way too much about these guys so maybe its time to disengage from all things electronic until the morning.