One Misty, Moisty Morning When Cloudy Was the WeatherI Ran Right Out The Front Door As Late As I May Ever.

I ran across the yard and threw open the door of the car I am borrowing since my car decided to breathe smoke through its steering wheel column on Tuesday. Throwing my backpack in (and cursing because I, of course, had left my keys in the house), I saw a tail slip between the seats. This was a job for the brother.

So I called me faithful brother – yes, still outside with my cell phone – and asked him to please bring my keys outside and to please, please, please help me find the mouse/lizard/questionable creature. He began to bang on everything in the car and I soon joined in, but nothing stirred. Finally, deciding that I could be brave - and noting to myself that there is cure for rabies if I were to be bitten by the mouse/lizard/questionable creature – I climbed into the car to go to work. (Besides, if the creature will not come out when two "giants" are climbing over everything, then it logically follows that it will naturally not come out when I’m driving. Right?)

Unfortunately, we will never know – the car refused to start. What else was there to do but to take the BatTruck? [This is when I covet a digital camera. Just imagine a photo of my brother’s truck: a black Nissan with a bat symbol on the front.]

Alas for that my proper car at the mechanic still remainth.

Why Caribou Is Nicer Than Starbucks

If you were to, let's say, spill your entire unsipped cup of coffee all over the table, chairs, and floor, Caribou employees will first bring you a new cup of coffee, then come over with a mop while they ask where you are from.  Then they will tell you that people spill coffee all the time and that there is no need to worry about spilt beverages.   Just drink your coffee and you can even spill it again if you want to.

Of course, they still are a chain who is helping to push out all locally owned coffee shops, but, really, for a chain they aren't so bad.

I’m Pacing the Streets of my Hometown

Sometimes you glance up and realize what you’ve been missing.  The past two weeks have been one of these times.

I was paid a visit last weekend by an old friend from Asheville.  When all of us moved on, there were two camps: the first camp I shall call “thank-goodness-we-are-leaving”, the second “I-will-return-if-it-kills-me.”  Liz and I both fell into the reluctant, I-will-return-if-it-kills-me camp.

Anyway, Liz asked me if given the choice (and if money & employment were not an issue) would I move back to Asheville or stay were I am.  I didn’t even need time to reflect.  I don’t want to move back.  I don’t know if I want to stay here for the rest of my life, but I don’t think that would be so bad either.

I think I used to believe that you were really lucky if you had one friend you could count on in your geographical area.  I’ve realized that recently I’ve developed a crowd.  Some of them drive me crazy at times,  however, they’re all here for the long haul and this is something I do not doubt.  There are so many now, that I think half could move on and I would still feel surrounded.    

Liz kind of made fun of how little there is to do around here.  She’s actually right on – we are about as exciting as Stars Hollow, but I really can’t say that I’m ever bored.  Besides, a slow life is worth living is this is what I gain.

Breaking News

As some of you know, I am flying to South Africa in September for my cousin’s wedding along with a small crowd of relatives.  Everyone else is staying for two weeks, but I can only stay for one.  However, it turns out that my cousin’s fiancé’s son can only stay for a week as well.   I am a decently experienced world traveler, but traveling with a seven-year-old will be a whole new world.  Anyone have any suggestions?

No Hablo Espagñol

Last night, I ate dinner with a family who attends my church. All of a sudden, the three-year-old starts talking with her mouth full of pizza and nobody can understand a word of what she is trying to say. Her father turns to her and says with great fatherly authority that we do not talk with food in our mouths. The daughter informs the father that she was not, in fact, talking with food in her mouth. The father informs the daughter that she was, in fact, talking with food in her mouth. Then the daughter responds, “Daddy, I was NOT talking. I was speaking Spanish!”

No…Really…I’m Fine

Today, driving into work, a truck going in the opposite direction scattered about eight turkey vultures who crept into the sky, methodically flapping their two feet wings when suddenly the bird and the end keeled over, dropped four feet, then caught himself and flew off to the head of the line. Then I realized the power line was swinging back and forth rather vigorously. The vulture had flown right into it!

Random Lines

There is no codfish in Mudville – Mighty Portugal has struck out. However, there is a new baby girl down in Austin, TX which I must admit is more exciting than a Portuguese win.

Terribly off subject, I met a little girl at a toy store yesterday who had an airline captain’s hat on backwards with little red locks sticking out of the sides. Then she had the tiniest glittered purse hooked over her elbow. She looked at me, bent her elbows so her hands where parallel to her shoulders and stated, “Look at me! I’m all dressed up!” Then she attempted to take the store’s doll for a stroll around the mall.

Seeing as I am following no specific form here, I have been working on a budget with a good friend of mine who is a champion budgeter. Do not ask me how long we have spent on this, just understand that there have been lots of three-year-old breaks not that grown-ups are always good at sticking to the topic at hand. We should hopefully finish tonight and I will not feel so guilty about financial matters. (If I could just win the lottery, this would be a non-issue.)

São Os Campeões

I want to celebrate the 4th of July this year by watching Portugal win over Greece. It’s not that I have had feelings against the Greeks; it’s just that I have had very good experiences with the Portuguese. If they win there will be chourico, caldo verde and arroz doce in my kitchen. Just you wait!

And…if they win spectacularly, maybe I will attempt to make those cod fish balls that are always at weddings…

(Hmm...now I’m starving and this granola bar is just not cutting it anymore. Alas.)