May 26, 2010
There's a woman in a gray Ford who carpools with our next door neighbor.
Every morning she arrives at 7:45 and either honks her horn if it is her week to drive or unpacks her stuff and trundles up to the house, if it isn't. I like the weeks when she doesn't hoot the horn loudly.
The birds sing.
Sometimes a Great-tailed Grackel sits on the pole and sings. Usually, she is chased off by another, only to return when the coast is clear.
Walkers pass by.
Lacey stands on her hind legs to get a look. Lacey barks to let them know she has her eye on them. So far everyone has heeded her warning.
The white-winged dove calls are easy to mistake for an owl, especially if you are a bit hard for hearing like me. I only hear the "hoo-hoo" portion of its call.
One of the caretakers from the group home at the end of the cul-de-sac drives by with a young man in the back seat. I wonder where they go every day?
Choochie, our neighbor, leaves for work before 8 and returns after 6. He says he loves working. He is an accountant and he is 73 or 74 years old. He plans to keep this up until he can't do it anymore.
I realize that it is nearly time for me to leave for the store and I reluctantly head in and get ready. I'm no Choochie.
Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgmental and cranky