Thursday, September 27, 2007

Maybe next time

Sirens very early this morning got closer and closer to our house, until the noise stopped and flashing lights lit our bedroom.

"Is it the [alleged] crack house?" Mr. Thel asked sleepily.

The lights were indeed flashing in front of the (alleged) crack house. It was a fire truck, though, not the police...damn it.

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Like Candy

Our five tomato plants produced a small wealth this summer. I had somehow repressed the memory of how perfectly sweet and delicious a homegrown tomato is...I don't know how I can ever forget again.

Friday, September 14, 2007

What I like about you

Some small local things I enjoy:

1. Knowing almost all of the neighbors on our block--if not by name, at least to wave at.

2. Being able to swing down to the library to pick up a book I reserved, and be home again in ten minutes. By bike. Without breaking a sweat.

3. Having a guest bedroom complete with a hide-a-bed (what do the rest of you call that particular furniture item, by the way?) that is allowing us to host a steady stream of visiting relatives this summer.

4. Browsing through the farmers' market on Wednesday evening with the setting sun in my eyes.

5. Whizzing down the hill into Madison Valley on the way to work.

Thursday, September 06, 2007

Can't I just put a secret sign on the door that convinces them to try a different house?

Everyone is allowed to have one phobia, right? One little fear that is far out of proportion to actual danger? I only ask because in the past week I've killed two nasty poisonous hobo spiders in the same area of our living room, and it's freaking me right the fuck out.

We didn't have any hobo spiders in here last year--so does that mean they'll all die off before winter? What time of year are they most likely to creep inside, and is this the worst of it? And can I PLEASE find a website that addresses these issues without feeling the need to plaster at the top of their page an enormous, detailed photo of a hobo spider blown up seventeen times as large as life? Shrieking and stabbing at the "back" button is ever so disruptive to my research mission.