Trampoline Trials

I find that as I get older and wiser, there are more and more things for which that I wish I could go back in time or retroactively apologize.

When I was growing up in England, our neighbourhood had a lot of kids. We would run around during the summer until all hours, playing our kid games and just having a fine old time. There would be other days where we’d do things like catching bumblebees off our neighbours’ lavender bush. There would be other days where we’d ride our bikes like demon riders, screaming and shouting the whole time. We’d play games like tennis and cricket and rounders and inevitably our ball would end up in the next-door neighbour’s garden and we’d have to ask for it back.

One of our neighbours was an old lady named Mrs. Olly. She didn’t like us much and we dreaded asking her for our ball back. She would shout at us and tell us to stop making so much noise. We used to laugh at her and dare each other to go get the ball.

Nowadays, I feel a little more sympathy for poor Mrs. Olly. I didn’t see this coming. One day, I’m a care free child, not worrying about the rest of the world around me, living in the now and just having a good time. Then, thirty years later, I’m seeing things through another point of view: That of a neighbour who’d just like a little peace from the neighbourhood kids.

It makes me feel rather bad for Mrs. Olly. I’ve had a few occasions where Son of Dog Whisperer is playing catch with himself in the back yard and he’s thrown the ball in my garden. Since the incident where he left my back gate open after, I suspect, retrieving his ball from my yard, I’ve chained that particular gate so that it doesn’t get left open again. This, however, means that whenever Son of Dog Whisperer’s ball lands over the fence into my garden, he comes to my front door, rings the bell and I have to go retrieve it.

It’s not so bad unless I’m trying to do something like cook dinner or read. However, I definitely have a little more sympathy and a whole lot more guilt towards doing the same thing to poor old Mrs. Olly. I know, I sound like a curmudgeon. I probably am a curmudgeon.

It’s just that I tend to try to be quite tolerant in the beginning. Sometimes, I tend to be too tolerant of the neighbour kids. See the Lemonade Stand Incident. Also, this weekend, I sold an old Game Boy at my yard sale for a very good price and I gave the kid a game to go with it it. He’s a young teen who lives three doors down from me. Yesterday, just as I’d finished breakfast, my doorbell rang. He wanted to know if I had any more games for the Game Boy he’d bought from me. Politely, I said I’d look and I’d let him know next time I saw him which is pretty often since I walk by his house with the dogs every day.

I did look for more games because I promised even though I think I only ever had three to begin with and I’d sold them at the yard sale. I figured I’d tell him that he was out of luck. I couldn’t help feeling it was a little assumptive in the first place to go ask someone that after the yard sale is done but he’s about 13 and that isn’t always the most common sensical age for boys.

I didn’t have to wait. He rang my doorbell just a couple of hours later, following up. He seemed very disappointed that I didn’t have any more games but I did tell him to look on Ebay. He bought the Game Boy, the game and the charger with a nice case for $5 so it wasn’t like I’d ripped him off. I only hope that he doesn’t come back to triple check. I don’t know how many ways I can tell him no without being a little short about it.

Still, he seems like a nice boy even if he is a bit persistent. I don’t mind him as much as I’m starting to mind Son of Dog Whisperer. I try very hard to be friendly to the child. I know he has some type of learning disability and, frankly, he’s a bit of a weird kid. Yet I try to treat him nicely even when he bugs the crap out of me. I do find it a wee bit disconcerting when he stands in the middle of my lawn, doing that “HUT!” thing with his football while appearing to stare in my window. Sometimes, when he’s playing alone, he plays with a light saber and he just walks up to me when I’m working outside, doesn’t say anything, points the light saber at me and walks away, muttering something incomprehensible.

All this, I can deal with. It’s just when he’s with his little pack of ruffian friends that I’m starting to get annoyed. In general, as a pack, they have that arrogance that only packs of children can have. They ride their bikes in the road with that confidence that the cars will swerve to avoid hitting them so they don’t really have to look where they’re going. Sometimes, one of the older girls will ride her bike, pulling a younger one who is crouched on a skateboard, behind her. They’re connected by a long rope and there are times when the skateboard is on one side of the intersection and the bike at the other. It scares me and I’m not even sitting on the damn skateboard but the kids seem to think it’s fun. All it would take is one of the cars to zoom through the neighbourhood, unfamiliar with its layout and geography of our Stop Signs and that child would be in some serious trouble.

The two little girls are siblings to Kenny who appears to be Son of Dog Whisperer’s BFF. As a group, they’re loud and obnoxious. They have no problem yelling at people when they pass by. They leave crap all over the path ways and their bikes are often cast aside wherever they feel like jumping off and running.

All this, I could deal with. It is annoying but I figure it’s penance for the years of my wild childhood and playing in the streets.

Now, it’s got worse. Son of Dog Whisperer now owns a large trampoline. The trampoline sits in the back yard. It’s got one of those ‘safety’ nets around it though I’m not sure what purpose it serves as the kids seem to be able to climb under the net and it doesn’t seem to be very stable.

For the past three days, those kids have squealed and screamed and run around Son of Dog Whisperer’s back yard like a pack of wild hyenas. They bounce and squeal. They fight constantly. They throw things at one another. Then they bounce so more.

I suppose from the point of view of his parents, buying the trampoline seemed like a good idea. Son could get some exercise and have something outdoors to do with his friends. Yay, trampoline.

Though…not yay. I can tell you what will happen. For the first few weeks, Son of Dog Whisperer and friends will bounce a lot. They will view it as a novelty. Then…they’ll get bored. The weather will get cold and that giant trampoline will sit there, gathering puddles, killing the grass underneath and just basically being a giant space-waster.

My sister has a trampoline. I’ve had friends who had trampolines. Unless a child aspires to be a professional trampoline-ist, chances are that bouncing will get old quite quickly. It’s like bouncing on the bed as a kid. It seemed like fun for a while but then it ended up being rather monotonous and that was that.

I know, I know…I sound REALLY crotchety, cranky and old. It’s just that for the entire duration of living in my house, I’ve suffered the yipping and barking of the Beasts of Dog Whisperer. There’s no control there. No matter how much I try to befriend the dogs, they keep yipping at me. Son of Dog Whisperer has been a wee bit of a pain but until the trampoline, it was easy to escape from.

Now, he and his friends are outside ALL the time. Good for parents of the child. Not so good for me who enjoys a little sanctity by looking at my vegetables and sitting out on my patio, reading. My reading is now punctuated with BOUNCE-SQUEAL-“HEY LOOK AT ME!”- “YOU’RE A DORK”- “NO, YOU’RE A DORK!” “WELL, YOU’RE A GIRL. GO AWAY. BOYS ONLY!”

I’m trying to be tolerant but, alas, it’s hard. There’s no escape and there’s very little I can do. The child is entitled to his trampoline. He’s entitled to play with his friends. He’s even bloody well entitled to that lemonade stand of his. It’s just that there are times when I can’t help but wish the neighbours could have a say in what’s allowed and what’s not. I can guarantee that those dogs wouldn’t be so noisy and there’d be no trampoline, that’s for sure.

Still, for now, I’m starting to contemplate that privacy fence again. I’m also mentally atoning for all of the times I probably had the same effect on my neighbours when I was a child. It’s a vicious cycle and now I feel bad. Poor Mrs. Olly and the other sufferers of our childhood oblivion.

I suppose the small thing to be thankful for is that we never had a trampoline because then, I’d feel really bad.

Ok…that’s my complaining for the day. It is Monday, after all…tomorrow will be better and Wednesday even best because that’s when the kids go back to school.

Poor kids. Happy Neighbours. I can live with that.

Happy Tuesday!

People Studies: Lessons from a Yard Sale

So, I had my yard sale this weekend. It went about as smoothly as any yard sale could go. Having been to quite a few garage/yard sales in the past, I've learned what works and doesn't work and I was well prepared for mine.

It actually went off without any hiccups. It was supposed to be the annual neighbourhood yard sale but there weren't many participants. The first year I lived here, there were a ton of sales. Last year, there were less. This year, there were even less. However, I was fortunate enough to be part of a cluster. There was one next door at Mr. Enormous Trouser's house and two across the street at the older folks' homes.

Being in a cluster is good. When I got yard/garage sale-ing, I look for clusters. It makes it worthwhile to find somewhere to park becuase you're getting more for your time.

I did have an early start to the day. My intention was to take the girls for a walk and check out to see how many sales looked like they were going to be set up. Then I'd come home and set up since the sales weren't supposed to start until 9 a.m. It was a little alarming that by 7:15 a.m. when we started on our walk that both Mr. Enormous Trousers and the lady across the road were already setting up but we went for our walk anyway. I did notice that as we walked on by, some 'early birds' were already converging on the lady across the street's sale. This was the reason I had planned on setting up later. Also, since Mrs. Enormous Trousers is an Avon lady, that's primarily what they sell at their sale and it takes a lot more time to set up than my bric-a-brac.

However, I set up by 8:30 a.m. and was ready for my first customers who arrived as soon as I went to sit in my chair and peruse my magazine. My last customers came right aroun 1:45 p.m. In between the first and last, I learned a lot about people. I think if you want to study human beings, having a yard sale is a great way to do so. Here are a few things I learned:

1) People are very, very cheap. Sure, they pretend that they're just like to get a bargain but what this means is that they're cheap. If I'm selling a high quality musical piano for $30 when it costs about $120 brand new, NO, I WILL NOT sell it for $5. Be realistic. Yes, ok, so I came down to $20 because a young boy fell in love with it and both his parents were encouraging and, well, I'm a sucker but $5? Come on.

2) See #1. I had lots of nice messenger bags to sell. Some even had the tags still on them. I was selling them because I simply didn't need them nor do I have the space. When they're priced at $1 and they have a TAG ON THEM that says they were originally $10, do you really think I'm going to be happy when you offer me $.25? Come on. It's a dollar.

3) People are cautious. Someone asked if I had bedbugs before she purchased some books. Firstly, ewww! Secondly, even if I HAD bedbugs, do you really think that I would confess it in front of a yard full of people browsing my stuff? Thirdly, ewww! (I don't have bedbugs, for the record). Of course, as fate would have it, my nice Terminex inspector did decide to come and check up on the house after the problem back in May DURING MY YARD SALE but fortunately, she wasn't in her company truck and secondly, she came during a quite time. Oh...Murphy, your laws are funny.

4) People are discriminating. I had a little side table that I got for $12 at IKEA and was in mint condition (AND ASSEMBLED, take that, IKEA!) that I was selling for $2. I thought that was reasonable. I also used the table to display other items for sale. I had one lady take everything off said table, flip the table upside down, inspect it for about five minutes, put everything BACK on the table and then sigh and walk off. Lady, it was a $2 table, you're not going to find a designer stamp on it. Sorry.

5) People always have a story. I had a lovely dog carrier on sale. I originally paid $45 for it and got it for Sookie when I went to claim her. Since I ended up coming home with a Rory and a Sook, it was already too small. I had it up for sale with the original tags and paperwork for $20. A lady came and asked if I'd take $10. I said no. Then she launched into a story about her friend who rescued baby animals like racoons, possums and skunks. She works for a non-profit, has no funds to buy stuff but does it because she loves animals. I said I could take $15. We ended up at $12. What can I say, I'm a sucker. Also, I happen to think baby racoons are adorable and living with my parents who live on a major highway, we did have a few occasions where we were asked to foster baby racoons after their mothers were hit on the road and they were left abandoned so she hit a personal note. The lady was nice and even came back to thank me again and tell me all about her own experiences as a skunk rescuer/expert. She studies skunks.

6) People are cheap (yes, I know, I covered this in #1 and #2) but it's still true. I'm sorry but a Sony Playstation One with controller, power adapter and two games is a bargain at $5. Sure, the Playstation One is out of date and irrelevant but you can still find games on Ebay and it still works. I'm sorry but no, I will not take $1 for the whole pack. The same goes for the 27 inch TV I was selling and had marked at $10. It's a working TV that served me well for the entire time I lived in L.A. and until last year when I caved and upgraded to an HDTV. I will NOT take $1 for the TV. I did end up taking $7.50 but that was only because it was really heavy and I didn't fancy lumping it back inside.

7) Kids can be cute. I had a box of toys with an old pirate sword I had for a costume once. A little boy who was about five saw it and his entire face lit up. He literally dived into the box to claim it and he was NOT letting that go for anything. He even looked suspicious that I'd take it back when he proudly came to give me his quarter. The same goes for the little girl who couldn't have been older than four who proudly picked out an old Eeyore, Teletubby and a bear from my toy box and was so excited when I said she only had to pay fifty cents even though they were a quarter each. Kids can be so cute.

8) Kids can be a pain in the rear. Son of Dog Whisperer and his friends drive me a little crazy. For one thing, Son of Dog Whisperer oddly decided that my front lawn was his 'football practice field' at about 9:30 a.m. He proceeded to put his football down and do that thing that football players do at the beginning of the game- you know, where they're leaning with one arm down on the ball and the other pointed to the sky right before they do that "Hut" thing? Oh, you know what I mean. Anyway, Son of Dog Whisperer kept doing this except he just stayed in that pose for quite some time. It was a wee bit creepy, truth be told. I was a little annoyed he was on my lawn but since he wasn't doing any harm, I figured I'd let it go. Of course, that was before he actually started throwing the ball. At one point, he threw it and it hit some of my yard sale stuff at which point I told him he needed to stop throwing the ball and go play in his own yard. He did stop throwing the ball but didn't get out of my yard. The annoying part is that at some point, BOTH Of his parents were outside, doing stuff and only one time did Wife of Dog Whisperer say "Did you ask [captain monkeypants] if you could play in her yard?". When Son of Dog Whisperer said no, that was it. There was no scolding, no "Well, you should." It was clearly a formality that his mother asked. Even if I did tell them that I'd prefer it if he stayed off my lawn, it wouldn't stick. I know Son of Dog Whisperer has some kind of learning disability so I feel doubly bad for being such an old curmudgeon but, well, it's MY lawn...They have their own yard.

7) People can be creepy. There were a couple of older men who were walking around the sales. Two of them seperately sidled up to the table where I was sitting, looked around shiftily and asked if I had "any gold or guns?" Well, no...sorry, I'm not a gold and guns kind of gal. One of the men was quite persistent about the gold. He wanted me to go in my house and check. He even showed me his little scale where he could weigh my non-existent gold. Since I'm not in possession of much gold, I tend to prefer silvery jewelry over gold and most of my jewelry isn't exactly high quality anyway, I didn't oblige. Besides, I wasn't about to abandon my yard sale to find gold for Mr. Creepy. I had at least two others come by later and ask if I had any gold or guns. It sounded a bit too Old West for me, honestly. What, do they think I've got a collection of Smith and Wesson rifles and gold bullion bars under my floorboards?

8) If it's free, someone will want it. I had a set of curtain rods with brackets that I took down from my Tuscan room when I redid it. They were sturdy and in good shape but no one wanted them for $2. Later, when it was getting obvious I'd be making a Goodwill run to donate the stuff I didn't sell, I marked the curtain rods as free since I wouldn't get anything by giving them to Goodwill. Lo and behold, within seconds, someone took them. I know it's a bad economy but they were only $2 to begin with!

9) No matter how cheap something is, someone always wants it cheaper. I was offered a dime a couple of times for an item I'd priced at a quarter. Yes, this is a variation on #'s 1,2 and 6 but...well, I know people like to bargain and get a deal but, really, you don't think a quarter for something is a deal? Really? Even when it's in the original packaging and looks pretty new? A dime? Really? Sigh.

10) People buy the stuff you don't expect to sell and leave the stuff you had trouble deciding to sell anyway. I had a few treasures that I had reluctantly decided to sell because I didn't use them much and they took up space even though I liked them. No one wanted these. They wanted the, uh, junk I had decided to try to sell and intended to donate afterwards. This included the pair of slightly-too-big hideous patent leather shoes with a giant bow that I had bought used for a 1980's costume party ($1!), the terrible French cookbook that was only $1 from the dollar store and proved to be...terrible (I got my $1 back!) and the shower curtain rings that were a pretty bronze colour but were terrible because a) they weren't closed all the way and whenever you opened the shower curtain, they'd slide off the rail. Also, they left a nasty brown powdery residue where they rubbed against the shower curtain rail. I made $2 on those! Meanwhile, my lovely Mikasa Christmas oil/vinegar/salt/pepper cruet set didn't sell for $3 (I decided to keep it after all) nor did my nice new-ish pink and khaki messenger bag for $1. That old "Someone else's junk is someone else's treasure thing is very true."

All in all, it was a successful sale. I sold 75% of everything, made a little money though, because people are (say it with me) cheap, I didn't make as much as I should and I had a nice time meeting some of my neighbours. Of course, I did have two sulky dogs who couldn't figure out what I was doing out there all day and I got quite sunburned because after a while, you cannot scoot back under the overhang of the house anymore without being indoors- thus, I was in the sun a lot. Sure, Son of Dog Whisperer did eventually find his 'posse' which, sadly, still doesn't include Raymond and they converged on my sale, threw a bunch of the toys on the floor and then ended up only buying one weird little dolphin snowglobe thingy for 25 cents but it was an interesting day. Afterwards, I confess, I was a little exhausted but there was something satisfying about taking my last few boxes of stuff to Goodwill and knowing that even by just a little, I'd decluttered my house a bit.

It's entirely possible that I'll build up more clutter over the next year and decide to have another sale when the next Annual Neighbourhood Sale date comes around next year. I think if that happens, my strategy will be to double the price on everything so that when people offer me less, it'll seem like a deal to them even though I'll secretly be making what I actually wanted to make on an item. You live and learn...right?

Happy Monday!

Hot Days and The Politics of Childhood Friendship

It really is a hot one out there today. This morning, Mr. Weatherman said it was going to be about 95 degrees by 5 p.m. tonight but it would feel more like 100 degrees. He was right. It is a sauna out there at the moment. I’m a little amazed that he was right but, as with everything, if you try hard enough at something, eventually you are right about it once in a while.

I find super hot days like this change the vibe of a neighbourhood. Normally, when the weather is cool and manageable, my little ‘hood is full of activity. There are a lot of kids who walk home from playing baseball or basketball at the nearby community centre. There are parents fetching and driving their kids to sports, ballet and whatever activities the kids do. There is a buzz of mowers. There are people walking dogs, stopping to chat, jogging…you get the picture.

However, on hot days like this the neighborhood pretty much just stops. The lawns look dry and crispy and even those that desperately need to be mowed are ignored. There are fewer people thronging around and far more sitting on their stoops in lawn chairs, lazily watching the world. It’s like for a brief period, everything slows down.

I don’t mind it at all. I find it fascinating. People get up much earlier when they know it’s going to be super hot. When I drive to work at 7:50 a.m., there are a lot more dog-walkers and joggers than normal because they know later on it will be too hot to walk/jog.

When the heat hits later in the day, it’s hard to explain exactly how the vibe feels. The closest I can come is a scene in a movie where there has been a mass disaster that’s killed most of human life and only a rag-tag bag of survivors scuttle and hide in the buildings because, at night, the zombies come. While there are no zombies in my neighbourhood (that I know of, anyway), the deserted daytime feeling seems to be there. There is little life force outside- it’s too busy hiding inside in the sanctity of the air conditioning.

The pups and I tried to break this deserted feel last night and we went for a walk anyway since it was only 93 outside. It was still hot enough that Rory plonked herself down on the ground and decided she was too hot and tired to continue. This was about five minutes after we left the house. Normally, it takes at least ten minutes of walking.

We did run into a few brave souls who were trying to conquer the heat and work outside anyway. We met a new lady who lives in the pups favourite house- it’s got a lot of trees with squirrels and bunnies have often been sighted in the yard. She used to have dachshund so we had quite a chat. She used to have males and she told me a couple of horror stories about their viciousness that made me shudder a little because of what happened with Sausage. I do know that male dachshunds are known to be one of the more vicious breeds which is why I have females.

She was a nice lady though and we had a chat. She also told me it was quite ok if my dogs wanted to poop in her yard. I didn’t even have to clean it up. That was nice of her but I’m a firm believer in the scooping of the poop- leave no evidence behind.
We also met a rather nice, sad little boy named Raymond. He was riding his bike with a helmet on. Raymond is one of those kids you just know doesn’t have it easy. He’s a little heavyset for his age, had a slight lisp and has a wide eyed sweetness about him. Raymond asked me if I’d seen two boys on bikes. Given that Son of Dog Whisperer and his little friend had almost mowed us down on the other side of the block, I said I had seen them but I wasn’t sure if they were the same boys he was looking for.

When he told me their names, he confirmed that he was, in fact, looking for Son of Dog Whisperer and his friend. Apparently, Raymond was supposed to ride bikes with them but as soon as he’d gone to get his bike, they’d ridden off and ditched him. Just looking at him, I could see how hurt he was by this. He kept asking me where I’d seen them and I told him. They had been riding awfully fast so it was clear that for whatever reason, they didn’t want to play with Raymond.

Naturally, I felt horrible for the poor little boy. I think he is about eight or nine. He told me that he didn’t have many friends and how he thought he’d found some in Son of Dog Whisperer and his buddy. His lip quivered and my heart just went out to the poor boy. It’s been a few years since I was a kid but I remember times where I got ditched by friends or they basically ganged up and decided I wasn’t cool enough to hang out with. It’s a heavy feeling that just hangs over you and makes you feel unwanted.

There wasn’t much I could do for poor Raymond. He asked if I knew Son of Dog Whisperer and I told Raymond that he was my next door neighbour. I wasn’t sure of the politics of the friendship between Son of Dog Whisperer, his buddy and Raymond but I did ask Raymond if he wanted to ride his bike while I walked back home with the pups so I could show him where Son of Dog Whisperer lived. Raymond, lip quivering a little, was too proud to do that and I was pleased for him. Instead, he asked me that if I saw the other boys, I could please ask them to go back to Raymond’s house.

I didn’t see Son of Dog Whisperer and his friend so I couldn’t pass along the message when I took my poor, lazy, panting pups home. My guess is that if I had, the two boys would have cackled and said, “No Way.” Kids can be very cruel when they have a peer to back them up and it was quite obvious they were happy with just their own company.

My heart goes out to young Raymond. He’s the type of boy you know has a hard time making friends because he has a wee aura of neediness to him. Yet I bet he’d be a loyal friend to anyone who would let him. He also has an aura of sweetness and gentleness to him that the other two boys lack. It may sound strange and blame it on my need, as a writer, to watch and observe people. I’ve watched Dog Whisperer and his buddy and they’re a little wild- they have parents but their parents are too busy to pay much attention to what they do. This is why they can go bike riding, shoeless, shirtless around the neighbourhoods, occasionally veering into the road and always riding with determination. Raymond, on the other hand, seems well cared for- he might try to ride his bike ruthlessly without worrying about cars and such in order to keep up with his friends but, really, he’s very meticulously about crossing the street and being safe. That’s how he was last night when he talked to me. He was on the other side of the street and he looked both ways before crossing over.

I hope that Raymond finds some friends who appreciate him and won’t ditch him when they promise to play. It was hard to watch him walk off after giving me the message to deliver. His shoulders slumped and he walked with a very dejected air.

I know he’s just a strange neighbour kid but something about Raymond got to me. Maybe it was because he took me back briefly to some painful friend politics of my own childhood. Maybe it’s because no one wants to see a lonely kid. But, mostly, I think it’s because he seemed like such a sweet little boy and seeing those sad, hurt eyes made me just wish I could make Son of Dog Whisperer and his buddy change their minds and include Raymond.

But the world doesn’t work like that and I only have one side of the story. Besides, it does not do to meddle in the friendship politics of eight-year-old boys.

It still doesn’t stop me from hoping for good things for little Raymond anyway. Hopefully, the rest of the long, hot summer days will be a little kinder to him and he’ll find someone else to play with.

Although, hopefully, not all the days will be this hot. Especially as it’s not even really summer yet.

Happy Thursday!

The Penalty of Kindness

So, yesterday, I blogged about feeling slightly guilty for not mowing Mr. Enormous Trousers’ yard for him and I mentioned that I tend to get taken advantage of for being nice.

I think if I’m going to put that out on the blogosphere, I really should stick by my decision to stop being quite so nice because, well, it happened again last night.

You see, when I got home from work yesterday, I noticed two things. One, Son of Dog Whisperer was running around in the street in front of his house clad only in a pair of swimming trunks and two) he’d set up a lemonade stand with two of his friends from down the street.

The swimming trunks thing wasn’t terribly surprising because it was hot although since there’s no pool too close by and he doesn’t have a hose in his garden, it seemed like an interesting choice of attire but I attributed it to the fact that it was hot. Also, I’d much rather have Son of Dog Whisperer running around without a shirt than Dog Whisperer himself because, well, let’s just say that Dog Whisperer doesn’t exactly have the sort of naked chest you want to see, well, naked.

The lemonade stand was something different. Son of Dog Whisperer had taken his little table and chair from inside the house and set it up outside with a Tupperware pitcher full of lemonade.

Normally, I walk the dogs when I get home but since it’s been so hot, muggy and sticky outside, I was already contemplating not walking them. Rory has taken to just sitting down in protest when she’s hot and she gets extremely irritated when I make her keep walking. Sookie, meanwhile just looks at me with a sulk in her eye and her tongue hanging out in panting protest. Then, when we get home, she spends the rest of the evening sprawling out in various positions on the cool piece of linoleum that’s in my entranceway just to show me she is, in fact, hot.

The trouble is, the dogs think they want to walk so when I don’t walk them, they have this habit of both sitting there at our regular sojourn time and looking at me as though to say , “are we going walking or what?” Every move I make is watched and it just takes one step for them to run to the front door, waiting for me to put their leashes on them.

Still, last night, I hadn’t planned on walking them because of the heat. Also, I’ll confess, I was a little crabby from a not-so-great day at work and wasn’t feeling very social and I knew if I went out with the dogs, I’d be accosted by Son of Dog Whisperer to buy some lemonade. This only aided my desire to not walk.

However, the dogs didn’t seem to like my plan and they went into their traditional “WHEN ARE WE WALKING????” stance. Also, I started to feel a little like the neighbourhood Scrooge. I mean, the kid was just trying to have a little business, right? That sort of enterprising behavior should be rewarded.

It’s just….well, how to say this without being mean….the kid is a little…odd. He often walks up to me, says something random and runs off. However, lately, he’s been becoming a little friendlier. He gave me a signed hockey puck because he thought he might be a famous hockey player on his team. Only afterwards did I find out from Wife of Dog Whisperer, he didn’t really have a hockey team. Still, it was a sweet gesture.

Thus, I began to feel mean for not wanting to give the kid 25 cents for a cup of lemonade. Sighing, I tucked a dollar bill and some quarters into my jeans pocket and then got the dogs ready for walking.

Sure enough, as soon as I stepped outside, I was accosted. “WannabuysomeLEMONADE???” the kids yelled at me. Son of Dog Whisperer’s friends live down the street and the little girl, who is about six, is a little too aggressive in trying to pet the dogs when we see her. She runs up to them “CUTEDOGGGIEEEEE” she yells as she simultaneously tries to grab them. The pups, of course, skitter away in alarm at this little human who doesn’t seem to understand that the dogs might not want to be grabbed. Her brother is a little less affectionate with the dogs. I think they might even be twins because they look about the same age.

Anyway, combined with Son of Dog Whisperer’s enthusiasm, the lemonade stand was definitely not deprived of hawkers. I promised the kids I’d get a cup when I came back around the block with the dogs.

It took a wee bit longer than planned because we ran into Larry the Potential Serial Killer. He was mowing his lawn and was very sweaty but it didn’t stop him from coming over for one of his a-little-too-up-close-and-personal chats.

By the time we escaped, we looped back around the block and I saw Son of Dog Whisperer running in someone’s yard, clearly scouting the territory for me to reappear. As I said, he’s a nice boy but he doesn’t have many senses of boundaries and has no qualms about walking through anyone’s yard, including mine. I don’t say anything because I don’t want to be one of those “GET OFF MY LAWN!” cranks but I find it a little irritating.

I finally got to the lemonade stand and was told it was both 25 cents and 50 cents a glass. The kids had a bit of an argument about how much to charge me. I decided to be nice and gave them a dollar and told them to keep the change. I took my lemonade and headed inside but not before Son of Dog Whisperer ran up to me and asked “So, what have you been up to lately, [Captain Monkeypants]?” It seemed like quite a grown-up question for an eight year old to ask a neighbour but I figured he’d been learning manners so I chatted with him and then he left me to take the dogs inside.

I sipped the lemonade but, as anticipated, it was Kool Aid and was very, very sweet and I couldn’t drink it. I decided to start making dinner so I was just getting my vegetables ready to chop when there was a thump on my door. I opened it. This may seem simple but with two dachshunds, opening the front door involves some quick maneuvering to make sure they don’t run out. Thus, I stepped outside and shut the door behind me. The little boy from down the street had gone and it was just son of Dog Whisperer and the little girl.

It seemed I’d been the winner in a drawing that Son of Dog Whisperer and his little female friend had created and I’d won both a free glass of lemonade and a Mormon pamphlet that I know for a fact and been lying in their front yard for a while during several storms. Thus, it was muddy and mottled.

Surprised, I said thanks. Then Son of Dog Whisperer said, “Fifty Cents, please.” I was surprised because usually ‘winning’ doesn’t involve paying for said prize, particularly when it’s not really wanted but at this point, I still thought it was cute and I handed over the fifty cents I had in my pocket.

With a polite “thanks”, the kids scampered off. I went back to dinner. Then, moments later, there was another thump-thump-thump on my door. They were back. This time with a half-empty can of root beer that I’d also ‘won’ in yet another drawing. This time, I didn’t have any change or dollar bills and I told them that. Dejected, they handed me the can and walked away.

Again, I went back to making dinner. Again, I was interrupted. This time, they rang the doorbell. This time, there was no pretense of my winning a prize. They just wanted money. I was a little surprised and I joked that I didn’t have any more cash since I used my debit card mostly. That was fine. The kids ‘took debit cards.’ I laughed and said, “Uh-huh, sure you do.” The kids wouldn’t let it go. They just kept on and on about me giving them money and my debit card. I finally got annoyed and said I had to go. The kids decided then to steal my cute little dog statue I have in my front yard and run off with it unless I gave them a dollar.

During this time, there was absolutely no sign of Dog Whisperer or Wife of Dog Whisperer and I was starting to get angry that not only were these kids being brats but, also, they were unsupervised brats. Finally, I went inside thinking that if I ignored them, they’d just get fed up and leave and I’d get my statue back later.

This was fine until they both decided to literally plaster themselves up against my front window doing that horrible thing that kids do and stuck their mouths on my window, sticking out their tongues and leaving my window all smeared. I was furious by this point. The dogs were going crazy and I was at the end of my patience. They kept yelling “ONE DOLLAR” and held up my dog statue. Finally, irritated beyond anything, I opened the door and gave them the dollar since nothing else was going to get rid of them. Just as I did, Dog Whisperer stepped out of his house. The kids grabbed the dollar and ran off and Dog Whisperer went inside before I could even mention what the kids had been doing.

I figured that was the end of it. I was just getting the food on the grill outside when my doorbell rang, again. This time, it was Son of Dog Whisperer by himself with some flash cards he wanted me to buy to teach my dogs to read. Fortunately, this time, Dog Whisperer was hot on his heels and I got a very sincere apology.

I suppose it was my own fault. I thought I’d be nice and give the kids the money to help teach them the value of ‘earning’ a dollar. After all, isn’t that the point of a lemonade stand? I shouldn’t have kept giving in to them. I know I should never have given them that last dollar because I was just encouraging them but since ignoring them didn’t stop them nor did it deter them, it seemed like the best option. My next step was going to be MY knocking on HIS door to talk to his parents and I had every intention of doing that.

I’m not ruling that out because I have a feeling that the kids are going to think of me as the sucker who gave them money. I am a sucker. I stupidly thought that being nice would simply be appreciated rather than seen as a ‘ooh, let’s get more money from her.” I know that they’re young but at the age of eight, I’d been taught that asking for money from anyone but my parents was unacceptable. If offered, I could take it but demanding or begging for it was a no-no.

I suppose there’s a lesson to be learned there somewhere. I’m just hoping that there aren’t any more lemonade stands cropping up in front of Dog Whisperer’s house for a while. If so, I will not be buying. In fact, I think I’ll hide in my house until it goes away which is what I should have done in the first place.

Ah well, you learn something new every day, right?

Happy Thursday!

A Squirrel in a Bucket....

This has been one of those weekends that has gone by quickly because it's just been busy. It's the kind of busy that's good though- where I get things done but still get to relax. Not all of it has been planned busyness. Sometimes that just...happens.

Saturday, for example, I decided that I'd have a relaxing morning with the puppies. I had been woken up early by Wife of Dog Whisperer yelling at her dog. I'm talking 5 a.m.-early. When we got up around 8 a.m., I let the puppies out. Then I saw Wife of Dog Whisperer running around outside in her pink pajamas. Her very pink, large pajamas. It was a cold morning and I couldn't figure out why she was running around with no shoes and coat on. I ended up getting dressed and investigating but I couldn't figure it out. It was peculiar.

I read for a while. I've been plodding through A.S. Byatt's The Children's Book. I didn't like it very much when I started but it's one of those books you feel compelled to finish to see if anything would happen. Well, it took forever and I can safely say that not much really happened at all. Instead, there were pages and pages of minute detail about everything. There were politics. There was social commentary. Yet...not much happened. I was hoping I'd start to care about the characters but what ended up happening is I couldn't remember who was who and all the children just blurred together. Still, I was determined to finish it.

I didn't finish it on Saturday. Instead, I decided to go and see "Paranormal Activity 2" since the first one had inspired The Reluctant Demon and I thought I might get some more ideas. It wasn't a bad movie, if you liked the first one. It was clever how it tied in with the original. However, it was a lot less scary because it was sloppy. For example, most of the initial 'spookiness' is captured through views from individual cameras all over the house. It was very distracting that, night after night, the kitchen camera managed to capture the exact same view- that of the kitchen island with a cup on it and a bowl of apples. Some days, there were bananas in the apple bowl. Other days, there weren't any apples. Yet, every night, there were apples, no bananas and the same cup. I think they were reusing the same image. It may not seem like much but when you're watching a film that is hoping to shock you with sudden, unpredictable things, small details like that mug are distracting. Also, when one of the characters is dragged away by the demon, she's bitten by it too. I'm sorry but even though I'm sure it's terrifying to have a demon in your house that's dragging you down the stairs, for a demon, that was a pretty wimpy bite. I mean, come on- can't the demon have pointy teeth that ripped through flesh or something instead of a human-like bite mark?

I'm overthinking this. This is why I make up silly paranormal romantic comedies about demons rather than try to be scary because it's easy to overthink things and then the scariness vanishes.

Anyway, I digress. So I came home from the movie and let the puppies out. Then they puppies began to bark. Then they began to whine. It's the type of whining they do when there's a bunny or squirrel almost within reach and they can just about taste it. I went out to investigate. I looked around and saw nothing. Then I realized that it wasn't in the yard next door but there was a squirrel laying under Possibly-Joe's fence and it was only two feet away from the pups. Fortunately, there was a fence between it and my puppies but they wanted it and they wanted it bad. They wanted it so badly that Rory literally attempted to chew through the chainlink fence to get to it. I'm just happy she has normal teeth and not super-strong steel teeth or something.

Then, as I was contemplating whether the squirrel was stuck or it was just sitting there, Wife of Dog Whisperer came out to inform me that the squirrel had fallen from a tree and her dogs had almost got it so she had put it on a rake and put it over the fence. Unfortunately, it had attempted to crawl back into the yard. The result was it being stuck under Possibly-Joe's fence within smelling range of two dachshunds. Wife of Dog Whisperer shrugged and said there wasn't much we could do. I, however, disagreed. I mean, the poor rodent was clearly dying. I did not want a dying squirrel anywhere close to the puppies because it was torture for them. They REALLY want a squirrel. I also didn't fancy a dead squirrel there either because...well....ew!

So, I took it upon myself to solve the problem. I shut the pups indoors and went about using a shovel, a bucket and a rake handle. This was no easy feet. The chain link fence is four-feet high. The squirrel was on the other side of it. I managed to get it out from where it seemed to be trapped but getting it onto the shovel was no easy feat. Fortunately, the squirrel still seemed to have a will to live and it helped me out by using it's claws to cling to the shovel. Thus, I hefted it and the shovel over the fence and gently attempted to drop the squirrel in the bucket. The squirrels will to live remained and it would NOT let go of the shovel. I literally had to ply its claws off to let it go.

Thus I had a squirrel in a bucket. It was still alive. I didn't know what to do with it. Finally, I decided that since I was taking the puppies over to the woods for a walk anyway, taking a squirrel in a bucket would be a good idea. Thus, I ended up depositing the poor squirrel- which was still alive- in the woods on a pile of leaves. I have no doubt it was going to die but at least it could die somewhere comfortable.

The rest of Saturday was not quite so exciting though I got my pumpkin carved. Sunday was also pretty quiet although I got a nice phone call from an old friend inviting me to an 'old timer's reunion' at one of my old workplaces.

Am I an old-timer??? I shudder at the thought. Still, she's a good friend and it might be fun to see some of my old coworkers since it was a job at a hospital that I actually liked.

The only other unplanned excitement was that the doorbell rang this evening. This may not seem exciting but my doorbell only rings when I hit the button. The puppies went nuts. Turns out it was Dog Whisperer himself accompanied by Son of Dog Whisperer. He's a boy scout now. Son of Dog Whisperer, I mean...not Dog Whisperer. Dog Whisperer is too old to be a boy scout. Anyway, he's selling popcorn. I bought some because I'm one of those people who is horribly crippled by guilt if I'm directly asked by a child selling cookies, magazines, popcorn or wrapping paper and I say no. So I don't say no. I didn't say no this time. Now I'm going to have an enourmous tub of popping corn that cost me $10. It's a good cause. I just don't eat that much popcorn. I may have to share.

So, that's been our rather odd weekend. It hasn't been bad. The only thing I feel bad about really is that I've been promising Sookie and Rory that one day, they'd have their very own squirrel. I even went looking for trees to plant last weekend so they could have their very own squirrel tree. Then, when I had the opportunity to give them one, I didn't. Instead, I put it in a bucket and let it go in the woods. I know they knew what i was doing and they were not happy with me.

Oh well. I'm sure there'll be other squirrels. Just not in a bucket...I hope.

Happy Monday

Life in a Neighbourhood...

It's a Monday today and, at least, it didn't feel as much like one as the past couple have. It was very sunny today- sunny and hot. We seem to have moved right out of spring into full-on summer. It's nice but it's a little humid and it means the pups are getting hot and panty as they play in the yard. Fortunately, they're enamoured with ice-cubes which makes it a quick and easy treat that keeps them busy for at least a couple of minutes.

On evenings like this, I feel as though I should be outside but it really is rather hot in the sun and there are a plethora of bugs, gnats and mosquitoes out there that seem completely resistant to my bug repellant. I find that annoying. Is bug repellant just not effective or do I have some super-hero, hybrid-bugs that are invincible. Of course, if that were true, they wouldn't get splatted whenever I discover one trying to bite me. Rory and Sookie like to catch bugs- particularly spiders. It's quite handy except Sookie tries to bring them too me when they're half-alive. I'm not terribly afraid of spiders but I don't really want them, if that makes sense.

So, I'm being lazy tonight and staying inside. I want to walk the pups but I'm afraid it's a little warm and, also, creepy possible-serial-killer-man is starting to bother me. I ran into him at Big Lots the other day and he wants me to come on by and see his 'to-mad-as' which is how he says tomatoes. While I'm happy that he has planted tomatoes, they're not particularly...enthralling to see, if you know what I mean. Also, I have rows of them growing myself. I think he was just being friendly but I'd quite like to avoid popping 'round there on a regular basis. I also feel bad because I said he could have my extra zucchini plants even though he didn't know what a zucchini was (seriously). Then I ended up finding room for them and now I don't have them. I hope he doesn't come looking for them.

My neighbourhood is an interesting place to live. There's always someone doing something. Lately, my non-dog-whispering next-door neighbours have had a lot of guests. This is not particularly remarkable except the neighbours have four cars for their household and even though they park two in the driveway and two on the street in front of their house, this means their guests park in front of my house. More unusual is that sometimes, said guests sit in their car for hours. I'm not sure why. I find it very odd but since I know they 'belong' to the neighbours, it would be weird for me to bash on their window and say, 'excuse me but you're bothering me with your sitting here and not getting out of your car. Could you leave?'...wouldn't it?

My neighbourhood- and several others around- has a new trend of mowing the grass in diagonal lines. It looks...diagonal. For me, it's way too much work since I have trouble getting my mower to mow straight lines of any kind and my lawn is on a slope. It isn't, however, a problem for the Dog Whisperer who seems obsessed with mowing his grass because he does it three times a week, sometimes in the rain. Unfortunately, he just now decided to try the diagonal mow which means that since he's a bit of a lawnmowing junkie, the last cut hadn't grown out and currently, his lawn is a bit of a crosshatch design. It looks a little wonky. I think he realized because, no kidding, he's out there now mowing and it looks like he's gone back to the horizontal mow.

The Dog Whisperer's son is an interesting little boy. He likes to shoot baskets in his little hoop which is quite a bit shorter than him. He's seven years old and is SO proud when he makes a basket that, if I'm outside, he asks me if I watched. Of course, I don't like to tell him that when you're towering over the basket, it's not that much of a feet to reach out and drop the ball in so I just nod politely and say "good job." Today, when I popped home at lunch to let the puppies out, the Dog Whisperer- off from work this week- decided to let his beasts out even though I only had a 15 minute window to let the puppies play outside. I know he doesn't do it intentionally but...sometimes I wonder. As I was leaving, Son of the Dog Whisperer was wandering down the street. He does this a lot. He's one of those kids who's always looking elsewhere rather than where he's actually going and you can actually hear imaginary 'la-di-da-di-da' as he sort of skips along. He's fun to watch because he's always carrying a stick or a light saber or a toy. Today, he made a point of stopping in front of my car just as I was about to climb in and go back to work. He said, "I live in that house with the porch back there" as he pointed...at his house...which is next to mine. I smiled politely and nodded and said, 'good job'. I think it's my new standard response. He's a sweet kid but very head-in-the-cloudsy. Also, he just seems to stroll off at any given time. I'm sure his parents know where he's going but I sometimes pass him just 'la-di-da-di-daing' at the end of the street which is quite far from home for a seven-year-old.

But it is nice to live on a street with neighbours. Even though the Dog Whisperer's beasts continue to yap continuously, I now know that it doesn't just bother me because Larry, the possible-serial-killer told me. He likes to go to the neighbours and have a gossip so I trust him on this. Even with the awkwardness that is caused by meetings with Larry, I still enjoy the fact that I have a neighbourhood now. It's coming up on a year since I bought this place and it's unbelievable how my life and priorities have changed. It's much better than living in an apartment where every spanking sounds through the floorboards and there's a stray student needing a ride to his ice-skating lessons.

Now that summers here, the neighbours are out and about and there's nothing more fun that peering at a neighbour through the window. In my family, it's a time-honoured family tradition going back at least as far as my great-grandmother who would stand at her windows and stare out, peering behind the net curtain. I found myself doing this the other night as Larry strolled by on an evening jaunt. I couldn't help it. When I realized what I was doing, I realized that perhaps its a genetic trait. Either that or I'm just nosy.

But there's nothing really wrong with that...right?

Happy Tuesday!