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      Thursday, December 18, 2008


otherstuff
09:14 AM - 12/18/2008

The topic: I. Have. No. Life.

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I know this is true.  Because I just spent the past hour plus sitting on the bench in the garage, looking out the window with binoculars.  Like I told Brian “doing my Mrs. Kravitz imitation”.

There’s a house on the corner that’s in foreclosure.  Brian and I have always wondered about the status of the house, because there was a young couple living there, then they weren’t, but his nice truck sat in the driveway for months.  Then one day the truck is gone and it’s sitting at an out of business upholstery shop on one of the main streets in our area.  The owner of the business retired and it would appear that the guy who originally owned the truck is is son.

So, then some people move in, have desert toys, and they aren’t there all that long, then someone else moves in.  There are never any for sale or for rent signs out, people just move in, people move out.  Really odd.

So, earlier this year, after months of sitting vacant, people move in.  Young people.  One of the neighbors pointed out that one of the vehicles in the driveway belongs to one of the dirtbags (I call them the “white people” because they’re skinhead, racist tweaking dirtbags) from down the street.  Hmm….  Curious.

But the house seems quiet, there isn’t a lot of traffic like you’d expect from a druggie house, they keep up the yard, all in all, they don’t draw attention to themselves.

Last night, we’re waiting for Gilly to come by and I keep going outside to check if he’s around.  I look down the street and see two dogs.  And I’m pretty sure one came from that house.  I saw an old man out there last week playing with it.  I come in, bitching to Brian about the damn dogs running loose and that’s probably why Gilly isn’t here yet.

So, this morning, I’m out in the garage checking kitty cats and I see a sheriff’s car down there.  And I see a bunch of people wearing sheriff shirts.  And I see one of those dogs chained up to a tree. Brian hadn’t left yet, he was still in the shower.  I yelled at him when I was in the bedroom, to get the binocs. I said that there was an orange extension cord going to the street light.   Then I went back to the garage.  Standing on the step ladder got tiresome, so I climbed up on the bench/counter and settled in for the long haul.

He finished up getting ready for work and said that the people were probably living there illegally and that that extension cord was for power to the house.  They were most likely stealing it.  Oh, my!   [nono5]  

I watch.  My first cop count was seven.   I waited.  Oh! Oh!  They’re bringing out a guy in cuffs!  Put him in the back of one of the marked cars (there were two of those, three or more unmarked).   I see him yelling and one of the sheriffs went over and opened up the door and they were talking.  Then they bring out a young woman.  In cuffs.   Put her in the same car and away they went.

San Diego Gas and Electric shows up.  Parks around the corner where I can’t see.  Then I see the SDG&E guy walk over to the lamppost with a orange bag and a shovel.  He starts digging and a bunch of the sheriffs came over and watched.  I counted seven.

Then, a bit later, an older woman is brought out and placed in the other car.  And I see a couple of sheriffs carrying out large evidence bags.  Curiouser and curiouser.  And more police.  There were at least a dozen, probably more.  And old man walked out with them. The same old man I saw playing with the dog.  The police all left and the old man stayed.  With both dogs.  Just a while ago I saw a couple of younger guys at the house and the old man came out with them.

So, I’m really curious who that old guy is now.

And about the evidence bags.  The mailman spoke with me last week and told me there’d been some mail theft around here. He wanted to know if there’d been anything strange with ours, since we have one of those alarms in the mailbox that alerts in the house when the box is opened. Our box was never opened, which leads me to believe someone who is familiar with the neighborhood.

I wonder if they found other peoples’ mail in that house and that’s what was in the evidence bags.  And I wouldn’t doubt there were drugs found, too. 


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tales from the parkside
06:57 AM - 12/18/2008

The topic: Christmas cards

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When we packed up my mom’s stuff, one of the things she had hundreds of, were Christmas cards.  She had them in the buffet, she had them in baskets on the floor in the dining room, behind the table.  She had Christmas cards in baskets under the end table by the sofa in the little room where she watched television.  She had cards in the drawers in those little end tables at either end of the sofa. 

I was just amazed at how many she had, seeing as she didn’t send any out.  I remember last year before her brain melted as much as it did (thanks, Kaiser Permanente doctors, for giving her that final push), I offered to come take a picture of her at her house, and print up Christmas cards for her and help her address them to her friends.  She said “no, let’s wait until I’m feeling better and looking better”.

Well, all of her mail, with the exception of junk mail, is being forwarded to us.  And she’s gotten two cards.  Just two.  Yes, the family knows there’s no need to send her cards this year or any year, for that matter.  But where are all the others?

I’ve come to the conclusion, there are none.  And there probably haven’t been for years.  She just saved them each year she got them.  And that’s what I found.

Dad used to do the card giving.  Mom was never proud of her handwriting and her arthritis made it hard to write them out and sending cards just became a bother to her.   So, she only sent to family.

Of the two cards, one is reminding mom that her membership dues are due now, so it can’t really be considered a card. 

So, she got one card.

This just makes me sad, but it also gives me just a little more insight into what her life had become.


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lisaviolet is seventy something, married with no kids, takes care of lots of cats, likes taking photographs, loves Southern California weather and spends altogether too much time avoiding her responsibilities.

In her spare time, she makes pretty things to sell in her store.

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