Neighborhood Tidbits

24 Jun

The Peachtree Road Race is next week. Neither Dave nor I have been training for it. Unless training for a 10k involves a lazy week at the beach with lots of food and alcohol. We could have taken walks on the beach, but instead we looked for sharks teeth.

I was out for a walk the other day when an old man who lives next to the purple house with the amazing garden stopped me and Walt to invite us to his 97th birthday party. He told me that I could bring my husband and that I should BYOB. I started doubting his lucidity when he said Obama was invited to his birthday party too. And then that he had signed the Constitution. At least he knew who the current President was. At one point he said his day was bad because he had to pay the city a $250,000 fine for gas tanks in his trunk (Illegal gas tanks? What was he talking about?) and then later told me he had never had a bad day in his life. I thought I liked his quirkiness until he said he had never met a baby he couldn’t take from it’s mama.

Sometimes we have this interesting young gentleman help us with our yard work. He did a good job the first time and then the next few times we’ve wondered why we keep offering him money for his work. This weekend was the final straw. He did such a bad job mowing the lawn that David not only had to redo it but fix where he scattered mulch everywhere. He also put an almost dead bird on our porch, imploring us to nurse it back to health. After he was gone I noticed that the bird was no longer on our porch. I asked Dave about it and he was clueless as to its whereabouts. Until we spotted it in our vegetable garden, laying among the corn stalks.

Some nitwits planted a very pretty garden around the beautiful oak tree in their yard a couple weeks ago and this apparently hurt the oak tree. The leaves on several of the branches are dead now, and they need to call an arborist immediately before the whole tree dies. Those Johnstons don’t know a thing about gardening around established oak trees, it seems.

The little purple flowers in our yard are called Sentimental Blue Balloons. The name alone makes me want to buy more of them, besides the fact that they are so pretty.

Why does our neighborhood Kroger not sell spicy hot salsa or spicy hot cheese dip? Who decreed that medium hot was acceptable?


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