Saturday, May 14, 2011

My poor neighbors

One cannot fix one's eyes on the commonest natural production 
without finding food for a rambling fancy.
  -Jane Austen, "Mansfield Park"

I just spent over an hour going through the six thousand four hundred and twenty-seven (approximately) pictures of flowers and sticks and birds I've taken over the last few weeks.  Admiring them.  Trying to decide if the left to right orientation of the crabapple branch  is preferable to the right to left orientation of the exact same branch.  Trying to figure out how to work in at least 72% of these photos into a post that is both inspiring and hilarious and makes you say "By golly, I am glad I followed this girl.  The wonders she can do with that tiny five year old camera set to automatic and zero training whatsoever.  This post makes me feel...."

WhatWhat's my plan?  What am I expecting you to feel?  Why did I take so many darn pictures of not-talking things anyway?  It's not like this is a photography blog.  It's not like I'm a photographer!

I think it's because I still can't quite believe my kids finally get to live in a place like this.  That we own trees that grow flowers that turn into fruit.  That when I go out back, it's not a street or an alley or a parking lot anymore.  It's this:
It's like the photographs are my mental pinch-myself-on-the-arm-to-prove-it's-real.  And have I even had a chance to mention how freaking good it smells everywhere these days?  It's just...so...wow.  Amazing.


Okay, enough of that.  

Let's get to the real matter of discussion, which is this: My Neighbors Think Know I'm a Freak.


It all started a few days ago when I discovered it was going to be a sweltering 84 degrees Fahrenheit (<----insert joke for all my friends who live in hot places and wear snow pants when it gets that "cold".  Probably something about them telling me to shut my mouth.).  Oh joy!  Time for me to pull out my summer clothes!

And by clothes I of course mean sausage casings.


It was not good, friends.  Nothing was left to the imagination, unless what you were imagining was the Michelin man.  "Blah blah...you look great...blah blah."  No.


See, I refuse to, cannot, buy new clothes.  If I could, I probably would.  I would eat my Lorna Doones, and toss back a few more of those chocolate eggs, follow them with a Coors chaser, put on my brand new, much larger pants and call it a day.  But since I can't , I had to do something about it.  DO something.  


Oh wait...speaking of Coors, have you guys seen this? 
I never could tell when my beer was the ideal temperature.  Thank you, Coors!
Hilarious.


Okay, so I have to DO something, but giving up the chocolate is going to be hard and giving up the beer is going to be impossible.  What's that thing that people do when their clothes look like sausage casings and they like to drink lots of beer?  Exhausted?  Excrement?  Oooooooooh, exercise.  Yeah, that's the one.

Humph.  Back in high-school I ate a Baby Ruth bar and drank a diet Dr. Pepper every day for lunch and I didn't have to "exercise" (imagine me physically doing the air-quotes and and making a super sour, eye-rolly face when you read that).

"But dweej," you ask patiently, "what the heck does all this have to do with your neighbors and you being a whack job?"   

SO: I went running.  Two days in a row!
Shoe Style Saturday
During (gotta get down on...) Friday's  run, in contrast to Thursday's run, the iPod did not die, I didn't have as many cute animals to gawk at and the sun was shiney shinin'.  So as I was cruising down our dirt road, I was able to admire the gorgeous scenery that we live in.  I noticed that there were all sorts of wild flowers, and flowers on bushes, and trees with flowers.  And that's when I got the bright idea to gather a bouquet of them to put in a vase on our table so we could further celebrate the wonderment of springtime.  I do like to multitask, ya know.

Have you ever half-climbed a wild lilac bush to remove its blooms whilst wearing a dorky high-tech fabric cap?  Have you ever waded across an overgrown ditch to snag a branch from a wild apple tree?  Have you ever decided that the dandelions growing along the road a mile away from your house are infinitely superior to the dandelions that grow in your own dang yard?  Well good.  Then you know exactly why I did all those things on that Friday morning.  I was quite pleased with my array...until I realized that I still had to get home.

"But dweej," you ask not as patiently, "what the heck does all this have to do with your neighbors and you being a whack job?!?!?"
 
So there I am with ear phones in, dorky Coolmax cap (which lies and pretends I participated in some amazing running event, which I certainly did not) on, trail running shoes, and a sizable collection of flowers clutched in my sweaty hand.  Running down a rural road.  A road that rarely has more than two or three cars per day.  Except, of course, on THAT day.  Oh yes, all of a sudden everybody in the whole dang town apparently needed to drive down our road.  And slow down so they wouldn't hit me (they're considerate like that) and then notice that I am a total weirdo because I am running down the street carrying a bouquet of flowers.  Like a fool.  Or a freak, if you will.

Because the crazy dogs and the obstacle course and us buying the house off the internet without ever having seen it was not proof enough.

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23 comments :

  1. Hahahaha a good laugh as usual! I can just picture you running with a bunch of flowers in hand!

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  2. Super freakin'.
    I'm going out to pick some lilacs now. I'll walk, thanks.

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  3. "Hurry! Hurry! Must get these flowers into some water!"!!! LOL!! That's just awesome!

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  4. Two thoughts:


    1) Since you're not from the Midwest and you DO already live in MI, know that we in the surrounding states see "Michigan" commercials voiced by Tim Allen who tells us how great MI is. You are blessed.

    2) I am more of a walker, but one hot day, I got an idea for a Christmas craft for my 20+ still unmet 4th graders, and two miles from home I started picking up pine cones. Yeah, can I tell you that one ball cap only holds a few cones, and I walked home on that 90 degree day cradling about 30 cones...

    So I get you.

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  5. *lol* It was almost like carrying a torch in the Olympics. You go girl.

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  6. Or maybe "My Super Lucky Neighbors"?

    @Mary Kate- you know that's what I was thinking!!!

    @Bernie- they should totally pick me for the next Olympic games. I'm already practicing!

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  7. Once, I ran to the grocery store to buy a cucumber as part of my workout. That was awkward.

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  8. Hell, my neighbors know I'm a whack-job. Do I care?

    I'm a walker; if not out on the track several times a week, it's here in my country hood, decked-out with iPod, cell phone and...handgun.

    First, the high school track is adjacent to the local county jail and I walk there in the early evening, sometimes just one of two people there. It can get scary when you see someone lurking on the school grounds.

    Second, on my winding country road, there are the occasional weirdos who drive around looking to inflict their stupidity on unsuspecting people. And, the Coyotes and a few Bears are on the prowl where I live.

    So there. Have Gun, Will Travel...safely.

    And I often pick flowers along my road because the damn Deer eat everything I plant at my house...so I just steal from my neighbors.

    Hugs!
    Patty

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  9. I love the visual! I get uber-crabby if i have to carry anything in my hands while running (water, food...um, no gun like Slidecutter o_O). So i'm very impressed that you persevered and got those babies home and in a vase!

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  10. By golly, I AM glad I followed this girl!!

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  11. I gotta say, I'm totally jealous of the back yard! But I do think that the vision of you running down the street with the bouquet in your hands is hysterical. I would laughed. Discreetly, of course.

    I'm about to jump back on the exercise train myself. Ugh. Double ugh. Good luck to you, Dweej!

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  12. I am sure the neighbors just thought how sensible you were to combine exercise and home decorating!

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  13. I am so sensible, aren't I Julie??? :)

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  14. I'm so glad to know that Slidey is a gun-totin' grizzly.

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  15. Hey, at least your flowers are pretty. My neighbors think I'm weird because I plant flowers at 8 o'clock at night (that's when I get my second wind) and I spent forever digging a hole in the ground with a tiny gardeners shovel because that was the only shovel I had.

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  16. Dear Dwija:

    You're one of my favorite people. Ever. If your neighbors think you're a whack-job, then they're most likely uptight and seriously lacking any kind of sense of humor. Because who wouldn't love a neighbor who runs with a bouquet of flowers, trains her dogs to herd chickens, makes a wicked cool obstacle course for her kids, and marries a man who has a sarcastic donkey for an alter-ego? Sounds like my kind of neighbor for sure.

    Love,
    Katie

    PS - Once those Coors are at SUPER COLD, I want a couple to go with my afternoon pork rind snack.

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  17. I had to laugh at the mental image of you running down the road, arms flailing (well at least in my head they were), with a bunch of flowers at the end of one of them.

    Also, I still haven't experienced these new coors light cans. Must head to the grocery store now!

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  18. You are so incredibly funny. I'm with you, living in the country surrounded by wild life is so incredible. We've been here 13 years and sometimes I forget but then there are days when I'm just left in awe of the beauty of it all.

    Thank you for linking Shoe Style Saturday to such a fabulous post.

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  19. Awww.... it was worth it in the end!

    Also, if the Coors people are listening: Do you know how I know my beer is cold? It feels cold. Find a better gimmick! (sorry, this one gets under my skin for some stupid reason.)

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  20. You aren't a freak at all. You're awesome. Because lilacs are the best things ever. : )

    xo,

    Sarah

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  21. Awesome - I can just picture you running with those flowers grasped in one sweaty hand. The comments above are funny too!

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