Before I get started I just want to point out that the Sartorialist has a post up already for today's date that allegedly has been "up" for one minute. ONE! And it already has six comments! Not to be believed! I love that blog; but come on! Do these commenters set their watches so as to be the first to write how much they adore the fact that madras is making a fashion comeback? Or maybe all his college roommates signed a posting pact. Could he have that many relatives? Beats me. I'm going to keep peeking in because I adore seeing what the rich and sometimes famous are up to in picturesque places around the globe. But don't expect me to believe six comments in one minute.
Now...
During my first months here at Elder House I spent many hours flat out in bed peering at the parking lot and the houses across the street. Not the ivy covered walks or beachy, pebbly shores I prefer; but lots of trees and surprisingly quite a bit of human motion. Lots of automobile traffic. (This is where I learned about spoke wheels for cars which are so ridiculous I refuse to discuss them any further.) The everyday parade of children during the school year and the skateboard competitors this summer. Families out for post dinner strolls and kids (lots of kids) on bikes make me happier than I ever imagined.
The physical pain and emotional upheaval I was enduring at the time made getting up a terrifying prospect and so I imagined myself working as an undercover agent observing my neighborhood so that I could singlehandedly save my country from reprehensible Bad Guys. Instead I got Industrious Guy and his wife. HHHhhhhhhmmm. A year later I have a bit less pain: and so am up and around a bit more. (God bless drugs!) I haven't watched with much enthusiasm for several months. And, I furtively glance from side to side, I think he might be UP TO SOMETHING!
YYYyyyyyyeeeeeesssss.
He waits until the wifey leaves at around four. Walks in and out of the house five or six times and ultimately squats down in his driveway with a sheet of paper about the size of the maps you used to get at gas stations and talks on his cell phone. Once he walked all the way through my building's parking lot, up the steep hill street, and ended up leaning on some kid's basketball stand while still on the phone. He makes wild gestures with his other hand, too. Isn't that a sure sign of evil doing?
He never lets anybody come in his front door. He doesn't clean his gutters, which is going to be a huge issue this fall. He idles his work truck for almost twenty minutes every morning. And he swats dust off his pants before going into the house. Then he comes back out in different clothes and makes another mysterious walking phone call.
Total Bad Guy behavior, right?
Anyway I'm glad my drugs are working. But I was a good observer of human shenanigans before. I'm also a very good listener. So in case anybody wondered: Yes, I heard what you said.
Now...
During my first months here at Elder House I spent many hours flat out in bed peering at the parking lot and the houses across the street. Not the ivy covered walks or beachy, pebbly shores I prefer; but lots of trees and surprisingly quite a bit of human motion. Lots of automobile traffic. (This is where I learned about spoke wheels for cars which are so ridiculous I refuse to discuss them any further.) The everyday parade of children during the school year and the skateboard competitors this summer. Families out for post dinner strolls and kids (lots of kids) on bikes make me happier than I ever imagined.
The physical pain and emotional upheaval I was enduring at the time made getting up a terrifying prospect and so I imagined myself working as an undercover agent observing my neighborhood so that I could singlehandedly save my country from reprehensible Bad Guys. Instead I got Industrious Guy and his wife. HHHhhhhhhmmm. A year later I have a bit less pain: and so am up and around a bit more. (God bless drugs!) I haven't watched with much enthusiasm for several months. And, I furtively glance from side to side, I think he might be UP TO SOMETHING!
YYYyyyyyyeeeeeesssss.
He waits until the wifey leaves at around four. Walks in and out of the house five or six times and ultimately squats down in his driveway with a sheet of paper about the size of the maps you used to get at gas stations and talks on his cell phone. Once he walked all the way through my building's parking lot, up the steep hill street, and ended up leaning on some kid's basketball stand while still on the phone. He makes wild gestures with his other hand, too. Isn't that a sure sign of evil doing?
He never lets anybody come in his front door. He doesn't clean his gutters, which is going to be a huge issue this fall. He idles his work truck for almost twenty minutes every morning. And he swats dust off his pants before going into the house. Then he comes back out in different clothes and makes another mysterious walking phone call.
Total Bad Guy behavior, right?
Anyway I'm glad my drugs are working. But I was a good observer of human shenanigans before. I'm also a very good listener. So in case anybody wondered: Yes, I heard what you said.
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