May 6, 2010
The guy came to install our new gate this morning and when he actually manages to get it installed, I will post a picture.
Despite 6 weeks of measuring, thinking, planning, ciphering, figuring and fabricating, the gate didn't quite fit. It looks good though. The guy is coming back tomorrow with the modifications needed to fix it.
The people who own the Great Wall of Our Street, have their son living in their house. They live in a major American city 'back East', as we say, out West here. You've heard that part of this story before.
Recently the parents bought a puppy to keep the son company.
The puppy is a yapper and the son is often oblivious to the yapping.
As I waited in the front for the gate guy this morning, I was vaguely aware of the doggie yapping incessantly.
The high point, excitement-wise today, was when Joyce, the no-nonsense British woman who lives across the street, stormed out of her front door in her robe and slippers. She pounded on the door at the Great Wall and screamed, "Stop that dog from barking."
The guy didn't open the door, but the dog stopped barking right away. Heck, Joyce was so scary that even the birds stopped singing and I think the sun got a bit dimmer.
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