lisaviolet's diary

I have pictures I took on Monday's walk, I'll get them posted later.

We have a long hill we walk up, it sucks going up, but it's so nice walking down. A nice way to start the morning. There's one house that has a fountain in the yard. We've watched this house through various owners and the current owner really seems to love his home. He takes really good care of the yard, it's always well manicured. The centerpiece is a four tiered fountain.

Well, I see this fountain and I know something is missing. Rubber ducks. He needs rubber ducks in that fountain. I told Brian "I have some St Pat's ducks!" and we start planning the delivery. Checking out access to the fountain. Brian figures it wouldn't even take forty-five seconds to get the ducks in the fountain and get back on the street. I said "and then the lights come on and you yell 'Run, Forrest, Run!"

On the final lap of the walk home, one of the neighbors from up the street, a guy who's been there forever, Brian used to clean out this guy's stalls when he was a kid, is driving down the street. Brian's all "oh, crap" because this guy will stop in the middle of the street to talk and doesn't give a crap about the people in cars behind him. I covered my eyes when I first saw his little truck, like little kids do "if I can't see him, he can't see me" and I started laughing. Well, the guy flashes his lights at us and stops. In the middle of the street. I'm laughing, still. He said something about me being really happy. Yeah, I'm a happy girl. And he asks Brian how he's doing, Brian says great, then cars are appearing over the hill, behind him. I start pulling on Brian's arm and tell the guy we have to go, Brian's making me breakfast this morning. "Oh, what is he making?" So, Brian starts to tell him. And the cars are getting closer. "Oh, eggs and potatoes" then Brian starts to elaborate on how he makes the potatoes! Oh. My. Gawd.

I yank Brian's arm harder (still laughing) and say "let's go!" and Brian finally realizes that he's fallen into elaboration mode. It's a running thread here, how he elaborates on everything. Last night, he elaborated about not elaborating. It's something I give him a bad time about when he's on the phone with (potential) customers. I'll mutter "I was born a poor black child" from the Steve Martin movie "The Jerk". Seriously, he'll start talking about growing up and his mom's cooking and on and on and on....

As we're walking away from the truck, he says "I was born a poor black child" and the laughter started again.

Yeah, this morning was a good walk.

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Wednesday, January 21, 2015