Monday, August 01, 2005

Mr Ed, Hyacinth and Boo

The thing about working all weekend is that you run out of diaper wipes and coffee. Also your babies greet you at the door with such loving adoration it’s painful. Daisy must have buried her head into me, at all levels (knee, chest, shoulder) about 50 times. I am not given to gratuitous warm cake mommy nerdiness, but I swooned.

Pete Yorn (you’re gonna thank me for this link) is this week’s car CD perma-peat featured artist. Featured repeatable ad infinitum songs: “Strange Condition” and “Just Another” from musicforthemorningafter.

I realized that I will have no retirement fund after all because I stopped at Starbucks again this morning due to a disastrous combination of leftover Ghirardelli chocolate coffee grinds mixed with an emergency stash of Chock Full O’ Nuts. Note to Starfuckerbucks: Not fair to lace the coffee with addictive crack.

I love my neighborhood because it reminds me of all my favorite ‘50’s sitcoms, especially Mr. Ed. Comforting slate rock fireplaces and smartass equine humor. I learned, from Mr. Ed, a rule about prepositions that I can’t remember right now.

That prayerful keening sound you hear is MZA and me hoping against hope that our neighbors, Hyacinth and Boo Radley (aka Weirdly and Creepella Gruesome), are actually moving away!!!!! There has been a lot of nocturnal activity. Boo has been ridding the ole homestead of a lifetime supply of motherboards, monitors and dust caked spindle headboards.

Hyacinth hired a crack team of redneck “landscapers” to mow down the crabgrass, ten foot weeds and man eating plants in order to plant New Guinea impatiens. A trained chimp coulda done it, but I think Hyacinth was down with the whole “hired help” scenario.

Each day a new accoutrement is carefully added to the “trying to look normal” tableau. A slate colored obedient dog statue, two “spontaneously” placed green plastic Adirondack chairs, a fun creative "my kids only engage in imaginative play" turbo plastic log cabin.

Now all that remains is a white tornado to sandblast 50 years of eccentric living from the façade. Keep your fingers crossed. I’ve lost the circulation in mine.


Cynicism is another word for reality

Email me, you derelict wastrel

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