Every time that LSU got a touchdown, Shawn leaned out of her house and blew an air horn. "Take that, Steve, you OSU lover." After the game, she hung an LSU flag outside of her house and tossed a fire cracker or two over her voodoo garden.
Thursday morning, I was trying to force myself to get back to work on old paper, when I heard banging on my back door. It was Bill, another neighbor. The weather was so nice that he decided to use his workers to put in the fence that divides Bill’s and Shawn’s and our property, rather than next summer as originally planned. The fence style had to be chosen that second. Seven Mexican guys stood behind Bill with shovels and pick axes. When neighbors do work for you, things may happen cheaply, but there is a huge random factor that you just have to deal with.
I spent the day standing by the back screen door and watching the
guys dig holes for the fence posts with a cool pincer tool. Every once
in a while, they killed time by making jokes about sticking things in
holes. heh. heh. I made coffee for everyone.
The kids came off the school bus and found the fence mostly up, but
with gaps here and there for special pieces that had to be ordered. A
maze! They ran in circles for hours.
Very often, I miss living in New York City. I miss the energy of the
crowds and the perfection of every little store and apartment. If you
don’t have much space, you take good care of every square foot. The
food is not even on the same planet at the soggy Chinese food and
cardboard pizza that we find around here. I still find the suburbs too
quiet.
But suburbia has its own eccentrics and little moments of humor.
There’s beauty amidst the bilevels. Our new cedar fence is so fragrant
and neat. Like a crisp, white shirt. I got out the leaf blower out this
morning, so the yard was tidy enough for the fence.
Apt. 11d 