NOT Mr. Man.

I needed to buy a couple of things in our local craft store. It was the last stop on our list of errands and Mr. Man was done in. He refused to come into the store with me and offer any opinion on the color hue of the cupcake cups I sought, and opted for a nap in the car. I explained that I would only be a couple of minutes and would like his input but received a shrug and a purposeful recline of his car seat, then a tug at his ball cap over his eyes.

My initial reaction was "Hmph!" at his casual disregard of my important quest, but thought to myself if he is peacefully asleep I can take my time and stroll up and down the aisles looking at things I don't need. Leaving him the car keys so he wouldn't suffocate or if he wanted soothing lullaby music, I headed in.

Admittedly it wasn't 5 minutes or even 10. Just a few longer. Afterall, I had to complete my mission. It was a disappointing venture, the store out of every item I was seeking, but I made one purchase just to show I really needed to be there. It was nearly dark when I left the store and headed for my car. Mr. Man was so sound asleep. He must have been very tired.

The electronic lock on the door wasn't responding to my code. So annoying! I knocked on the window to wake up Mr. Man to let me in. He slept on. I rapt harder and harder and told him to wake up and let me in for gosh sake! (Perhaps my verbage sounded a little harsh).

The Mr. Man figure rolled toward me and blinked at me bewildered. . . and I blinked at him because he was NOT Mr. Man. I am confused until I look at the running board and see no mud or weeds caked to it and the wheel rims seem way too shiney to be mine. The door scratch seems to have disappeared. Wait! This is NOT my vehicle. My SUV is parked exactly over one row which I made a buzz line to, rapping on the windows as I approach so I can escape the glares of the other Mr. Someone who thought I was trying to car jack him .

Mr. Man opens his eyes, unlocks the door and asks me what the problem is that I am banging on the windows? I explain the mistaken identity of the other SUV- same make, color, stickers and had 2 letters on the license plate that I remember mine has. Ditched out of the parking lot and drive to the safety of home before my humiliation fully took hold.

It's not the first time I've tried to get into a car that's not mine, but its the first time I was forcing my way into an occupied one.

Sorry Mr. Someone. Hope you got back to sleep and remember it all as just a dream. May we never meet again!

Retro 1960's Ranch style home and garden show......next door

I have new neighbors. They seem nice and are polite . Their children are kept indoors and allowed outside  occasionally with adult supervision and kept reigned in to the length of the property line. (32 yards).

Our introduction to each other was sudden and brought about by criminal activity on my block by the tweeker turned drug dealer across the street. The neighbors moved in the day the DEA and entire police force sealed off our block for 4 hours until it was decided Tweeker should go to jail. We introduced each other for safety in numbers and reassurance that we were a tight nit group of neighborhood watchers. . . something my new neighbor takes very seriously as he now has cameras mounted and alarm system installed to thwart any malicious or criminal activity against his property.

I was told by the family patriarch that he is gainfully employed, has been wealthy and settled on this neighborhood to appease his wife's passion for "RETRO 1960's Ranch style home and garden" and he intends to outfit his home to reflect an old calendar he has for reference. Good for him. Pour your money into the place. It can only help my houses market value increase.

I have yet to see the man go to work. Maybe he's made his money and retired at age 40. He tells me he used to live in a 4,000 + sq. ft. home in an exclusive gated community and traded it all for this 1700 sq ft. of paradise here in the hood .

He is home all day looking out the slits of his new shutters and he pokes his head out the front door if he sees Captain Morgan run down his bit of front sidewalk . ( IM wondering if he is the new drug kingpin. . . he did show up the day tweeker was arrested and black Mercedes parking in front often.)

I give him my,  "HELLO!. Yes I know my dog is out running but he doesn't care about your lawn so go back inside" wave. Also accompanied by well practiced smiles of tolerance and head bobbing. (I note he has also studied this form in front of the mirror. He also has the head nod-bob-clenched toothed-smile with sinister look perfected. I know it well. I have refined this also.)

We've been away from home for a couple of weeks. We returned to find part of the new retro outfitted yard plan completed next door. The promised "awesome and streamlined" landscaping and what I think the neighbor hopes is a pair of money trees, but seem more likely to be the start of a front yard avocado grove, are firmly planted in ground.

Applauding his eagerness to be the first on the block to have sustainable guacamole providers but he may be disappointed that these 10 foot trees will not be producing fruit for a few more years and are going to make a huge mess all over his manicured retro front lawn if they live that long. And lets face it- they aren't very pretty trees. As long as they stay on his side of the fence and away from my sewage lines, I'm okay with it.

 

We noted that he has the trees planted directly next to his sewage line so we wish him luck with those 55 year old pipes and future roots. Do I dare tell him the homes original owners removed all of the front lawn and side walk trees 30 years ago because they could no longer keep the tree roots from growing up out of the toilet and taking over their home? The deed is done and my opinion not solicited so we wish him a bountiful crop of avocados and clear sewer lines.

It's nice to have friendly new people. You never know who will move in and if they may be your newest nightmare. Fingers crossed and hopes for kind gestures and daily exchanges of pleasantry even if no friendship abounds.

Crossing my fingers those are Haas Avocados and a few fly over this way! My chips are ready!

"Who are the People in your neighborhood, in your neighborhood, in your neigh-bor-hood, oh
who are the people in your neighborhood.? The people that you greet each day."
                                                                                                           -   Sesame streets Big Bird

The wall

The wall in my family room is covered in various tools and implements.

I like the old school look and the fact that if all electricity fails forever, I can go to the wall and pick out the right tool to build a shelter, turn the soil and even defend my territory with something spikey.

 The wall is a reminder of a simpler time. Each piece on it was handed down from father to son or daughter for 3-4 generations. Some of the pieces have been restored and polished and others left with the rusted bits to enhance their ruggedness. I can remember my father and grandfather using the saws to make the porch steps and cut the stump end off of the Christmas tree.

It might sound strange to have this kind of wall display in an urban setting, especially when most of the house has a contemporary décor; but the wall is a physical reminder that I come from generations of the common hard working laborer, farmer, craftsman who worked with their hands and made do with materials available and for the most part were a humble people.

I'm proud to be a product of hard work and grit. It helped me to work harder to provide for my own family and instill in the children a  work ethic that they carry on .

My father-in-law recently passed away. He liked my wall and brought me his favorite "oldie but goodie" tool each time he came for a visit. He enjoyed looking at his old tools being displayed like fine art- even though it baffled him why I would allow it in the house when it obviously belonged in the barn. Even better, he would give a brief history about  the tool and a project he remembered it was used for or who it belonged to.

Dad had the mother lode of all tools and rusty farm equipment. The family went through his workshop and garage, finding a plethora of old tools and I was brought many "treasures" to put on my wall. I can say with assurance that the wall is full. I'm not sure about the 8 foot scythe. It looks  sinister but I'm pretty sure if I was armed with it against an assailant they might back off and rethink their strategy; or, if I need to mow the lawn, and the mower is out of gas, I could resort to using it for that!

I hope you have something in your home displayed to honor your past and what was instrumental in making you the person you are today.  The old saw with engraved leaves on the handle and etched initials of my great-grandfather is my favorite. It's tough, gritty and gets the job done with the right amount of effort and motivation. It's still functional , a little rusted with age, has a sturdy handle on its large frame and a couple of crooked teeth.. . . just like me.

"Not with my Frisbee you don't"

HRecently, my husband and I were in Northern California and staying at the family's mountain home.
It's a long drive from our hometown....about 12 hours door to door , and we don't make the trip very often.

This time, we weren't sure how long we would be staying, so we opted to take Captain Morgan with us and expose him to mountain and rustic living.

Being cooped up in a bumpy car for so long is tough on the most seasoned of travelers and by the time we hit the dirt road curving up the mountain toward the homestead, we were done in and the dog ready to run free.

Captain was exhilarated to be released into the wild and smell all of the new smells only available in this area. He dashed from tree to tree to rock and back. He marked his new territory diligently and discovered it was going to take a few more gallons of water and days to encircle  his claim on the entire mountain.

We went for a Frisbee outing on his second day where he could run for it with no boundaries and the smile on his face was constant. On a particularly long toss, Captain caught the Frisbee and kept running up the hill into the forest. In about 10 seconds, he came running back, looking over his shoulder and clenching the beloved Frisbee tight as he ran for the safety of the gated compound. Captain Morgan had just encountered his first deer. Not only that, it was a deer herd turning into stampede mode chasing after him. He was bewildered at the creatures. . . "What long legged and odd looking monster is this and why is it chasing me?". I've never seen the dog run so fast for cover and Frisbee play ended abruptly. He safe guarded it until the next day.

We went out to play again, this time with caution, checking for monster deer presence, but our play was interrupted with the appearance of "Dingo", a cattle dog belonging to one of the local ranchers, who had adopted us during our stay.

Dingo had never seen a Frisbee before but picked up on the general idea immediately. He is lightening fast and catching the Frisbee mid air not his forte, but if Captain missed, Dingo would jump on the Frisbee, pick it up and shake the crap out of it like he does to the squirrels that he catches for dinner!

Captain didn't hide his contempt for Dingo but  that didn't faze this tough dog. He killed that Frisbee in about 1 minute ripping the "indestructible" saucer to pieces and depositing it at my feet-Obviously not schooled in appropriate Frisbee etiquette. Living out in the middle of no where, there aren't a whole lot of Frisbee stores so we had the squeaking dumbbell and a tennis ball left. Again , Dingo snatched the "squeaker" and ran off into the woods with it. Dingo came back but squeaker was buried somewhere on another farm never to be seen again. He was all smiles so it was hard to yell at him. Country dog through and through.

Captain Morgan became tolerant of Dingo, even acting civilized, but I don't think he forgave him for destroying his beloved play things. When it was time, he was glad to get into the car and head home, safely away from the stampeding beasts and wild dog. We left the barrel of apples for the deer, the remaining tennis ball for Dingo and waved good bye. Captain is happy. He got a brand new Frisbee and Chuck-it set for his troubles, along with a brand new can of tennis balls. . . He still runs from pictures of deer though and looks away when he sees one on TV's Animal Planet.