And A Vicious Wind Blew Hard And Fast

I had Thanksgiving dinner at Jamie and Casey’s house along with Scott and Stacy and their brood.
(Thanks again for having me over. Sorry I didn’t bring anything.)
I hung out as long as I could before the dog started to get to me, and then I swung by Brian and Kathleen’s to deliver Kathleen a plate (and some peanut butter cookies I’d made for her). As they’d had to put one of their cats down the night before, Kathleen wasn’t really up to going to any sort of celebratory feast, and Brian was working.
What had started out as a beautiful, slightly windy day rapidly turned into a dismal, cold, rainy, and incredibly windy day.
The wind had picked up pretty early on, and in my backyard it looked as though it was raining falling leaves before the actual rain started.
Fortunately, in the front yard the wind stripped the still-leafy tree bare, and blew clear the massive blanket of fallen leaves that had developed immediately after I’d raked up the first batch of fallen leaves, sparing me the effort that would have gone into raking again.
Today has been pretty uneventful. There is, after all, nothing that could compel me to venture out into the world on Black Friday.
Lately I’ve been watching a lot of HGTV, mostly because I have the HD version in my HD line-up, and I have to say that I’m continually amazed at how many hot chicks there are associated with real estate and home improvement. I’m not just talking about the hosts, because, yeah, obviously producers are going to pick hotties to be the primary on-air presences, but also among the designers and Realtors, and whatnot.
Among my new favorites are Brandie Malay from Hidden Potential and Jane Wogan from the show Don’t Sweat It.
(Of course, none of them holds a candle – an icy, frozen candle – to Mistress Kirsten of Property Ladder)
In any case, I suppose I should get back to figuring out just how I’m going to waste the rest of the day.

Atilla The Hon Or A Different Kind Of Rakishness

Some time ago Brian asked me if I’d ever checked out the chick who sells hot dogs outside of the Home Depot in Leesburg. When I confessed that I hadn’t, he told me, “You should. She’s hot.”
He was right.
I’d gone to Home Depot to buy a rake, as I’d decided that it was past time that I do something about the dead leaves, mostly because I was sick of not being able to go out to my patio without dragging leaves back into the house with me.
As I’d skipped breakfast and it was nearly noon (nearly 1:00 as far as my internal clock was concerned), I decided to grab a dog (or more accurately, Polish sausage) and check her out.
Very cute.
(The chick, not the Polish sausage.)
During my brief interaction with her, I couldn’t help but wonder if it’s a requirement for women working in the food service industry to call people “hon.”
I’m not complaining – it’s rather endearing and is better than “shug” – but I just find it odd that the habit is so universal.
I suppose it’s a good default term, though, as it’s not really gender-specific.
Once I was home with rake in hand I spent the next two and half hours sweeping the leaves off the patio, raking up the leaves in the back yard, hosing the patio down, and then taking care of the leaves in the front and side yard.
While I was working out front a young man approached me and asked if I needed any help. The combination of youth, earnestness, an offer of help, a dress shirt, and some sort of paper in hand made me conclude that I was about to be evangelized to, and I instantly switched into hostility mode, responding to him with curt, just barely polite responses.
Then he introduced himself as one of my neighbors and I saw that he had gotten out of a car with the neighbor lady (whose name I can’t remember), and I switched back out of the hostility, even going so far as to invite them and the rest of their family to my housewarming party.
In fairness to me and my knee-jerk hostility, I had been interrupted yesterday by some old lady out stumping for Lyndon LaRouche. She droned on about something or other, then asked, “So, what do you think about all of this?”
I said, “I think I’m in the middle of doing something and don’t have time for this.”
(I could have been more blunt and told her that what I had been in the middle of doing was using the can, but decided against it.)
So anyway, I was naturally defensive about a stranger approaching me, as I really didn’t want to hear the “good news” while I was busy toiling (and even whistling) on the Sabbath.
Not much else of note has happened today, and so I suppose that I should deliver the good news and say that this entry is coming to an end.