a ghost

So the other day, I had to run into the grocery store. As I walked in, I saw the back of a man at the change counting machine. He had on those clunky Doc Martin style boots, faded blue jeans with the carpenter pockets, a polo type shirt and brown hair cut like a Marine. He was about 6'3 and 230 pounds, fairly muscular. I was 99% sure it was an ex-boyfriend... One that was not a nice person - it honestly made sense to me that maybe karma had finally caught up with him and he was relying on that change he was cashing in for his next meal.

So I did what any God-fearing, forgiving woman would do..... I sashayed right past him, making sure I held my stomach in and my chest out. (And I was so thankful I looked pretty cute that day, even if I did say so myself.)

It wasn't him.



Q is for Quetzocoatl.

Quetzocoatl went to elementary school with me for several years - I'm thinking maybe 1st through 3rd grade. We used to think it was hilarious that his whole name had more letters than the standardized test had bubbles to fill.

I am reminded of Quetzocoatl when I think about how fortunate I was to attend a small, Catholic school. We honestly had no idea that we were supposed to notice one another's differences. I didn't pay attention to the fact that Quetzocoatl was Mexican, I just knew he could run really fast. Megna, who was Hindu, had a two story house and a mom that wore a dot in the middle of her forehead. I never met Nicky's dad, but she had his African American hair.... I remember watching in amazement that she had to streeeeeetch a ponytail holder to get it to go around her hair more than once. (It took about 5 times to hold my fine, straight hair!) In retrospect, I'm pretty sure that Joey's family came from "the other side of the tracks," but he was the cutest boy in the class so nobody cared. I don't know if any of these kids paid tuition... If they did, it wasn't much. I wonder if anyone in the school paid the actual full price. I don't know where most of them are today, but I hope they remember elementary school as fondly as I do. I hope they remember that for a brief moment in time, we lived in a colorblind bubble.      

All I know is when I got to public school in the 7th grade and heard a kid use the "n" word, I was shocked. In theory, I knew what the word was, and what it meant, but I didn't know that people actually used it in a negative way to speak badly of others. It felt dirty and wrong when I heard it then, and it feels dirty and wrong when I hear it now. Nothing in particular inspired this post... There was no event that spurred my emotion. Sometimes I just wish that everyone could have been in my 2nd grade classroom, wearing a blue plaid shirt and learning to love one another. Seems like the world would be a much nicer place.


for future reference

We had a lovely weekend at my parents for Easter. I would post photos if the iPad let me. (Really annoying.) We had a nice, uneventful drive back and pulled into the driveway to unload. We walked around the back door and realized Blossom had run ahead of us..... Right into the house.... Through the back door that was wide open.

We looked at each other like, "Wait a minute. This isn't right." Larry made me go stand in the neighbors yard while he checked everything out. A few minuts later, I saw that he was done, so I went inside. Nothing was taken, moved, or messed up (and nobody was hiding in any of the closets,) so it appeared that our door had just blown wide open while we were away.

I know Larry locked it - I watched him go to the back door and twist the dead bolt, but he must have double twisted it or it didn't catch or something, because it sure didn't stay closed! Since there was no robbery and things appeared safe, we went ahead and proceeded to unload the car.

As we were doing that, the neighbor pulled out of her garage. She said, "I came by on Saturday to invite you guys over for Easter, but nobody was home." We told her that we had just arrived back in town. I asked if the door was open when she came over. She said, "yes. I was knocking and yelling your names, but when you didn't answer I just figured you were asleep or something and that you had the door open to air out the house." Now, I guess I can see that. But when you didn't see any evidence of us for 3 whole days, do you think you might have reassessed the situation?!? It isn't like we are home bodies. Larry sweeps/blows the leaves/ waters the plants/ etc. outside every single day. I mean, it isn't her fault, but in the future, if you ever encounter a situation where your neighbor's door is WIDE OPEN, nobody responds when you knock and yell their name, and even their dog appears missing, it would be nice if you:
1. Called the neighbor just to check if they wanted their door open
2. If you can't find their phone number, talk to one of the other neighbors who you regularly see us visiting with and mention it to them
3. Just close the door
4. Maybe even call the police for a welfare check... You know, to make sure we weren't lying in a puddle of blood in the back hallway.

Anyway,  spent a few hours sweeping and vacuuming about a kazillion bugs. I've never been so thankful for spiders... At least lots of bugs got caught in webs! But it was seriously disgusting. There were so. many. bugs. Fortunately, most of them were contained to the one room in which we left a light on. The new hand vac I got for Christmas works wonders. Some heavy duty spray (and a future visit with professional pest control) seem to have done the trick. I am so thankful that there was no crime and that there are no critters. (Skunk in the closet, deer in the bathtub, squirrels in the curtains, etc.) I'll never take living in a safe neighborhood for granted again!