Random thought process runs amok on Saturday (although they come to you on Sunday thanks to system problems):
* I've spent much of this week focusing entries on neighborhoods. I neglected to mention that last weekend I was driving through my old neighborhood of 21 years, and was pleased to find that "pigeon-man" finally moved out of the house two doors north of my old one.
This man was a disaster the entire time I knew him. He ran a farmer's market in town that was seedy, dirty, and crude. He had the most un-color-coded house on the block, with pink brick, beige trim and brown roof. But the worst part of it was that he insisted on raising racing pigeons in his backyard.
Racing pigeons do not meet city pet criteria, to myself and everyone else. He had two ugly coops built on the easement line (read: illegal), and we had to shelter our pool from increased pigeon droppings. For two years, he had one of those electronic animal retardants which only dogs can hear. I am not a dog, but my hearing is so ultra-sensitive, I heard it, even while locked inside the house. I could not comfortably access the backyard for two years at the expense of these dumb birds, who only ran circular patterns & never were trained well enough to venture out of the neighborhood.
But on my last trip there, I noticed: no more coops! I wonder what drove him out of there: neighbor pressure, city ordinance, or the realization of his own glaring unpopularity.
* We had another phone installed on the premises last week, and as with the last phones we've had, the number is unlisted. But at no time have we had the barrage of calls from campaign candidates like there's been in the past two weeks. This is what we get when we obtain a recycled phone number that may have been listed before. Thank goodness for caller ID and voicemail. I lament voter apathy, but now know one of its potential causes. The constant flood of calls is not necessary.
* Did I say "flood"? The Detroit area is headed for a fifteen-year high in rainfall as the weather continues its misery. Only five years ago, boaters were being warned of dropping lake levels and possible shoaling of their vessels. Now, watch the sandbag industry turn into a bonanza.
* And, a possible drama-free month? There will be no hassle for rent money, and the roommate's share of the electric bill is already in my hands. Guess the Higher-Up In Charge thought I reached my gray hair quota for the month.
