Big Excitement in a Little Town in these Times

Yesterday I mowed the lawn (as long-suffering readers of my blog know) and the sun was fighting for place behind a dark cloud. The breeze was trying hard to become a strong wind. It was one of those moments. I pushed and turned, and pulled and avoided and did all the things one does when one mows their smallish front lawn. A couple of Hispanic grandmas walked past pushing a stroller. “Morning!!!

“Morning!” Big smiles and incipient laughter from all three of us. “Happy Monday!” one of them says and all three of us crack up.

I finish and start to take the mower down the alley to my garage. I run into my neighbor.

“You’re walking like you’re 102!” she says.

“Yeah, well, this thing makes me feel like I’m 102.”

My neighbor has a heart as big as the world and she said, not knowing I’d already finished the job, “You want me to do that for you?”

I told her my new dream, a dream that came to me while I was mowing the lawn. On the very very very very sad day when Bear is no more, I’m divesting myself of my house and getting a motorhome. Teddy and I are going to become vagabonds. I’m sick of yard work and even at this moment, I’m waiting for a call from the plumber (not someone like him).

“I’m sick of this. I had the line cleaned out in March!”

“I remember.”

We’d texted about this Sunday when the problem started, and I blamed it on 3 ply toilet paper, the only kind I could get during the “great toilet paper crisis” of 2020. Both of us have lived with septic tanks and have experienced the wonder of single ply toilet paper’s unique ability to break down immediately in water. “3 ply toilet paper?” she says, “Might as well flush paper towels.”

We talk some more abut my future dreams of motorhome life, O! the places Teddy and I will go!

“Oooh!” she said, “I have something for you.” The first clap of thunder and five rain drops. “Wait here!”

I said, “I’ll go put this away,” gesturing toward the lawn mower.

“OK. I’ll meet you somewhere.” She hurries to her house. I walk like I’m 102 to the garage and put the mower away.

When I meet her, she has something behind her back. “I never shared this with anyone,” she said, “I’ve never given this to anyone.” She hands me a plastic grocery bag and I know immediately it contains single ply toilet paper.

I’m thrilled! Shortly after I got back inside the house, the sky broke loose with a thunder-booming gully washer, our first real precipitation since December!!!!! Yesterday evening, Bear and were able to sneak onto the golf course. ❤

If I were keeping track on a chart of the number of times I’ve forgotten to use the prompt word in my blog post, I’d have a nice, straight line to the upper right hand corner.

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2020/07/14/rdp-tuesday-chart/