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Not Like An Egg, More Like A Boulder

Let's Go For Two

A couple of you asked about the dog, which would have struck me as a perfect reasonable question nine years ago but now that I've lived here for a while you should know that I am looking at you like you have two heads - pretty much the same way Ol' Neighbor I-Don't-Want-To-Know-You looked at me way back when. The dog? The dog was fine, of course, and became one of the many numerous hazards around which I eventually learned to navigate. Deer, longboarders, turkey, bicyclists, opposum, those people who ski on dry land... any one of them might pop out in front of you at any moment and most/many/some dogs roam like roaming hordes. I never figured out where that particular black lab lived (that way somewhere) but I did come to know his summer schedule, which involved him taking himself for a brisk walk down our road followed by a swim in Whosits' pond. In time I also realized that telling Mr. Wilson that there was a dog in the road was like dropping the shocking news that we have squirrels in our yard. Not Done, Dear.

Oh see, hey now, how nice. I just got a text from one of my new friends (a text. I told Steve that I needed a smartphone despite all evidence to the contrary and now just look at me - all texty) saying that they are meeting out for the birthday of one of her friend's tonight and she'll send me details if I want to join them. To continue with my point from yesterday, how amazing is that? To be completely honest I am not sure if I am going to be awake and mobile by 8:30 (what is this? Chile?

total digression:

Steve and I went to Santiago to visit friends once upon a time and we were appalled to discover that the locals don't eat dinner until ten o'clock and then they go dancing. We tend to keep country hours so by 7 o'clock we were gnawing on our own arms whimpering with hunger and by 9 we'd be curled up into sleepy balls. We were a lot of fun.

Which further reminds me: Steve and I went to Maui for our honeymoon and somehow managed to never adjust to the time change. Feel free to interpret that in a suitably risqué way, all waggling eyebrows and twirling mustaches and fortune cookie entendres - why yes, we had a lovely time in Hawaii... in bed ho ho ho. So we would call for restaurant reservations and it would go like this, "Oh. OK. Well, when do you open for dinner? Fine. Two people at 5 o'clock then." I think the reason we never saw any whales is because they aren't nocturnal.)

Anyway. I have been invited out for drinks later and I am very pleased although in the time it took me to type this she has changed the time to nine so... we'll see.

I opened the front door last night and discovered this on the porch.


Patrick. Of course. And if you require a frame of reference he named this charming tableau "Crime Scene".