Hey Buffy

I looked at the calendar and figured you probably had joined the crew by now, so I’ll write to her through you.

Your coach is out on the front porch now. I’ve screened it in and got some soft cushions but they are covered in pollen but you would love the view.

Remember when we took that long walk to the Easter Parade watching Betsy’s brother taking down the porch? You were excellent with the crowd and that nice man from the Patterson Express that gave you water but there is some talk in this town about those big statues. It has been a year of hubbub and a skirmish up in the mountains about what was history and now unacceptable offensive monuments to history.

Remember your late night/early morning walks around the elementary school and being shot at? Good thing you were wearing that custom puffy vest. Seems schools are now targets for crazed shooters. Defenseless gatherings are becoming popular as shooting practice and maybe this is the new normal? Your mom would not be happy with the response from our government. There is even a Dick’s Sporting Goods store moving into Willow Law and they might sell weapons. Some nut-job even drove an armored personnel vehicle down Broad Street. Wild times in the ole town tonight.

Speaking of school, tell her I went to the ‘Fiftieth’ High School Reunion. She might remember the London Cab and the anticipation before meeting Big John. We met at Padow’s (which has moved from Willow Lawn) and then again at a Chinese Restaurant. It was mostly a bunch of old strangers but I had fun. I always have fun. The best part was being allowed to walk through the halls and see the tiles and wood and heavy doors and the smells more than the camaraderie. The cheerleaders didn’t cheer. The band didn’t play. The cadets didn’t march, but they did ask for money.

Ole Emanuel Labor worked more in the yard than in the house. Cut out a forest of bamboo and filled the trashcans again and again. Then I hired some guys to cut down some trees on the east side that only leaned over the fence. Then I hire a guy with a grinder to cut up roots of the bamboo. Of course he clipped the electric line out to the Little House so I had to get another crew to hook me back up since there is where I go everyday.

Since I’ve become a slug, I’m hiring contractors to do little projects then moving onto another. Maybe it will inspire? Then it gets too hot or too cold. Trying to get the last 3 windows replaced and have some patches to the wood, then have some guys to come in and paint what I started and never got further. I probably ought to get those merry-maids come in and disinfect what I walk over?

Got an interesting letter from MedLife about a life insurance policy. I don’t remember getting a life insurance policy for your mom but they will send me some packet. Where do I send the money?

The grocery that I call “The Tummy Temple” now is my daily adventure into the world. Without your mom giving me a list of necessities everyday, I lock up at the stop sign and wander through the aisles with my dirty old canvas bag looking for something of interest to prepare as a meal while filling the consistent restocking of blueberries, p-nuts, and seed. In the summer it is my only venture into cool air and in the winter I watch the radar for rain and snow. My goal for this year is calling the employees by their nametags. Now and then I run across an old friend but don’t tell you mom. Her husband and son are gigantic so I’m no threat. Some days are routine and some have additions to the day, like meeting some unruly little kids in the check out line in December. While the father was trying to apologize for their bad behavior I asked them if they knew who I was? Once they realized ‘I was Saint Nick’ their eyes widened. Another time some elderly longhaired hippie shouted out “Hey Jerry Garcia” and gave me a hug. Always an adventure. 

The grub is the same and I’ve tried most of my wishes with mixed results. Your mom was much a better chef than I, but my pallet has lost interest. A bowl of soup or a salad or sandwich will hold me for a day as long as I stay hydrated.

The critter crewe are enjoying 4-daily feedings of blueberries, p-nuts (shelled and lightly salted) and sunflower seed. There is this wonderful seed I found called “No Waste” and it is true. It is not that millet filler in most birdseed but some fine ground that everyone loves. The best thing is the next morning there is no clean up.

Your cousins Beau-Beau’s sleep and then pop up in the spring with holes everywhere. Without an announcement they come from every direction to suck up berries, seed, nuts and whatever else they can carry home. A half dozen Peties have a regular routine of the elders coming down at the first feed, then the kids in the afternoon. Some are scoundrels and some just want to roll in the dirt and play with sticks but they are all entertaining. You still wouldn’t be able to catch any of them, for they are very clever and fast. There have been more Robins hanging around this year. It must be the blueberries. Even the Cardinals have become BlueBerry Birds. The Grackles and the Doves are getting along with only one casualty and now and then one of the Crows will come down to have a drink. 

Remember the VCU hat you chewed up? I know it is just a dog thing, just like the Peties chewing on the corners of my building, and you only ate a couple of hats and a headphone; less than your brothers and sisters scratching and peeing on everything. I found one online and ordered it. I don’t shop much online and am glad your mom was not introduced to the Internet for she was an irresistible shopper.

The neighborhood had become fairly quiet after several years until a house down the block was sold and a team brought in a couple of Bobcats and raised a racket. They start early but end at sunset. The rest of the neighbors have been pretty civil. Most leave before 9AM and come home and climb into their abode and turn out the lights. On one side was ‘Motorcycle Boy’ with his hog and big black truck but he found some little redhead and has calmed down. On the other side the strange girl who never talks has put up her house for sale after two years. It is always an adventure.

Since you never had a boyfriend (other than Murray) there is this movement called “Me Too” that your mom might be interested in. It is about women standing up against the sexual harassment behavior that has lasted for decades. Her history is my guide. I can only hope that culture will change but maybe not in my lifetime.

So on another hot steamy Fourth of July I will remember.

“Want to go and see Murray?”