The other day, we were out for a walk and these two little boys on bikes hollered after us about a missing cat. They caught up to us and the older of the two, maybe 8 years old, told us all about what the cat looked like. He then gave us some very convoluted directions to a house around the corner where he believed the cat was hanging out, and explained that they couldn't go looking for her in that yard, because the lady who lives there would call the police. First of all, what kinda crusty ol' bitch calls the cops on children looking for a lost cat, but obviously we live in a world where that kind of mess happens all the time.
We promised the kids we would keep an eye out for their cat, and turned to walk away, when the older boy piped up again. "Hey, there's blood in that mailbox," he said, gesturing to a large, rusty mailbox belonging to the vacant house we were passing. The door of the mailbox had been fastened shut with a tightly coiled rubber band.
The smaller boy climbed off his bike and stood on tiptoes trying to pry open the mailbox. "You're not supposed to do that!" the older boy admonished him. Then he turned to us and offered, "You can look in there and see." I guess he thought we could handle it. Grownups would know what to do with a mailbox full of blood.
"No thanks, we're...good. We should probably keep that mailbox closed, but uh, we'll keep an eye out for your cat, good luck guys..."
What kind of week have you been having? Hopefully not one where you need to undergo bloodborne pathogen training just to retrieve your mail.
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| Any time we go to a restaurant now, it's special. It could always be the last time. |
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Gender reveal party sparks devastating California wildfire. Our primary concern should center on the residents and wildlife impacted by this fire, but like, who wants to be the fly on the wall when the fetus whose genitals were being feted is born, grows up, and finds out about this horrible mishap? Like, do these parents even get to keep this baby? Do they go to jail? Do they get sued?
Reading this made me uncomfortable, not because I'm a prude, but because it's so obviously fake and not even aspirational. A real human wouldn't last a week living this lifestyle without getting gout, cirrhosis of the liver, a UTI and possibly an anal fissure.
I was going to add my own post-tornado, pre-lockdown experience to this 'last night before lockdown' reminiscence, but the gutpunch of seeing another Nashvillian's comments on the same time period have pre-empted my words. Also, that sentence had too many hyphens in it.
No, absolutely not. I will not allow this. The only experiences we have now revolve around things we can put in our mouths, and also things we can read. If you took away either of those things from me, there'd be no reason to go on.
Analog Reading:
Just finishing up Dirt by Bill Buford. It is both privileged and perhaps dramatic to say, but this book has really made me miss international travel. Like, when is that going to be a thing we can do again? The depth and richness of the culinary and cultural experiences he finds in the lesser-traveled regions of France have opened a window to a world few Americans have the opportunity or motivation to seek out and experience.
About to start The Lost Daughter by Elena Ferrante. It's surprisingly slim compared to her four Neapolitan novels, but that's a good thing because I'm staring down the barrel of multiple library holds coming in all at once, unexpectedly.
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