Beloved, I Need You to Know

 

I am 

not safe

because 

we are 

not safe.

I am not safe.  

because we are not safe.

Our grandparents are not safe.

Our children are not safe.

Our parents are not safe.

Our neighbors are not safe.

Our neighbors 

who are people 

of color

are not safe.

Our neighbors 

regardless 

of legal status, 

are not safe.

Our neighbors, 

precious in the sight 

of God and made 

in the image of God, 

        who we are called 

        to love as we love 

        ourselves 

are not safe. 

And so we 

are not safe.  

And so I 

am not safe.  

And so 

neither 

are you.

Guilty Pleasures

Tiny Adorable Dog cries alone
heart broken, and I take this chance
to lie on the deck without having
to inhale their cigarette smoke

who wouldn't cry

The sun was already out of sight, but it was still a dreamy, shady 80 degrees, and I went out to the deck and set up the hammock (even though I've already REALLY overdone it this week), and some of the new neighbors were there, but they weren't swearing, and their illegal dog was acting really weird, and I wonder if they also don't realize that when the signs get put on the grass out front that it's been treated to make it look soft and lush and inviting and is now extremely poisonous to pets and children, the poisoning also applies to the back, and I wonder if the tiny, adorable doggie has been poisoned or is just trying to whack underground moles to death with her skull, but then I get back to my book, which is nonfiction and makes me cry anyway because I'm so tired, and it's so beautiful on the deck now that I've swept away the dead neon green and black wasp and the last bits of sunlight are showing me the glowing spider webs above the neighbors' yard, who wouldn't cry?

ways to drown out the shouty people

Ways to drown out the shouty people in your apartment building when you want to relax and enjoy your days off work

• Play opera music loudly (even if all the ones you need to listen to have Kiri Te Kanawa, who is not your favorite soprano)
• Play your favorite fighting anime loudly
• Keep the AC on constantly
• Other suggestions that are actually relaxing?

The joy of moving cubicles

Oh, the joy of moving cubicles!  Packing things up, sorting through things, rediscovering things, throwing things away, recycling things, putting things in new places where this time, for sure, you are going to remember where they are really.  Arranging things so that from the point of view of people passing by, you look clean and organized (as long as you don't leave the overhead bin with all your plushies open).  There's something refreshing about doing this (and not just because I am leaving behind my old place next to the Noisy Neighbor.

Do you feel this sense of shedding old skin and donning new when you move desks/offices/cubicles?

Something I heard late one night

I didn't actually see anything.  I just heard it:  the crunching squeal of tires skidding on ice over and over for half a minute in the parking lot, the skid, the crash of a significant impact between two cars, the sound of something glass shattering, the brief silence, more glass falling, the engine gunning, more skidding, and a fishtailing journey out of the icy parking lot and away down the street at something significantly over the speed limit.  Why?

I thought about calling the police.  I didn't because, well, what can they do when you report hearing a crime?  I wondered if I should tell the apartment manager in case the poor person whose parked car got smashed into needed someone to back up their claim to the insurance company that they were a victim and not responsible for the damages.  But I didn't SEE it, and the insurance company would still have to pay for it unless the criminal was caught, which would not happen based on my testimony.

In the end, I said nothing and told no one and was very glad I pay extra to have a garage stall to park in at night.  I do that because I can't dig my car out of the snow and/or ice, but apparently it's also handy against random acts of pointless, stupid vehicular vandalism.  Yes, Mom, my insurance rates did go down when I moved here.  I can't really imagine why . . .

Musings on a weekend when I'm (still) unpacking

.
Robert Frost said
good fences
make
good neighbors.

I think loud air conditioners
do the same thing.
.

How not to fall in love with a house

How not to fall in love with a house

• Don't meet the neighbors.
• Don't measure anything. 
• Don't think about exactly how things will best fit.
• Don't like the closets.
• Don't think about how you'll clean it.
• Don't think about how lovely the tree in the front yard will smell in spring.
• Don't notice all the places you could walk to (book store, another book store, library, Panera, Home Depot, park, every restaurant I ever go to).
• Don't notice how quiet it is. 
• Don't notice the pond and the turtles and the ducks.
• Don't think about what life will be like when you live there and not where you live right now.
• Just don't.

When Wally is your cube neighbor

Two short ones about my dreadfully annoying cube-dweller next door.

He can't possibly be

looking forward to his vacation

as much as I am.

*

Enjoy this moment;

don't waste it wondering when

he'll come in today.

Yep.  You can find poetry anywhere.  :)

Things not to tell your mom, part 3

A predatory sex offender has moved into my building (or the one next door). Oh, joy. But don't worry, it appears that he prefers to prey on junior high school boys, so I'm safe; though I'm worried about the junior high half a mile up the road.

Keep me (and the kids) in your prayers . . .