A couple of things.

First, I am sitting — no wait, really I was lounging on the couch finishing a letter to my penpal, Jeannette when I heard two cars stop outside.

“What the FUCK where you doing driving that fast down this road and then turning like that?” yells young, white man a blue Buick.

The other man in a black SUV mumbles something.

“That was really FUCKING IRRESPONSIBLE! I have my kids in the car and assholes like you have to drive that! What the HELL were you thinking?” Hollers the buick.

“Mumble mumble mumble,” SUV replied.

“I ought get out of my car and kick your muther fucking ass!” Buick threatened and with an exaggerated shake of his head, they part ways.

I had to laugh and give the blue car some thumbs up — even though he didn’t see me. I mean they DO drive to fast down our road and many of them are asshats.


Hilary came over with her daughters, Mina and Leta and we all went for a walk. It was going to be a good walk, a nice stretch of legs on a beautiful summer day in East Moorland. We walked up to the Catholic church and tried to see when the St. Dennis festival was going to start (probably tomorrow), and then I saw a sign for a garage sale. Off we walked to the garage sale with Mina collecting sticks along the way.

The sale was nice. Great display, and someone there was a serious Wannabe — I haven’t seen that many chintzy, brightly colored native american crap since I was at the flea market in Hudson. I did buy some wrestle mania stickers for 10 cents though! One woman stopped and smiled down at Mina. The young lady took one look at the woman and screamed loud enough to signal a tornado warning. The woman’s face fell and she uncomfortably made her way around the screaming child. I could just imagine the woman later sitting down with a bunch of bridge friends for lunch:

“I think I’m losing girls, the other day I was at a garage sale and saw this adorable little girl with brown curls. I smiled down at her, she paused a moment and then screamed and started throwing a fit! I know it’s god telling me that I am a terrible grandmother and that I need to mend things with my daughter,” she’d sniff into a martini.

“NO no,” the ladies would crone, “She was just Satan’s daughter.”

Which brings me almost to my next bit, but first I have to bring up the second bit — we left the sale and walked to the saddest, little park in Dane County. Mina “whee’d” back and forth on the only swing for a bit, and Leta stretched her legs. Since there wasn’t much there, we decided to go the better park just down the road. We walked through the grass, and I had just finished commenting to Hilary about how I loved to get rides through the grass as a kid (in reference to Leta in her stroller).

A sharp pain lanced across the top inside of my foot. I shook it and said “Ouch!”
“What’s wrong?” asked a concerned Hilary.
“I just got stung by a bee!” I whimpered and limped to the curb to put some saliva on it. “I wish I had tobacco — that would draw the poison out.”

Hilary then suggested I buy some…and I almost agreed. Well, Hilary being the Mom she is, decided that we needed to head back. On the way we passed a house that had a sign declaring “The Five Day Club.”

“What is the Five Day club?” I asked her.

“I don’t know, it looks like Girl Scouts,” she guessed and we crossed the street for a closer look at the sign. Before I could get a good look at the sign a young, elderly lady approached us with a beaming smile.

“What is the five day club?” inquired Hilary.

“It’s a Christian get together for children where they hear stories and songs about Christ,” she glanced from Leta to Mina. “Why I think you might enjoy it.” She half suggested and commented to Mina.

Before Hilary and I could even draw one uncomfortable breath, Mina looks at her and screams.

“Well, I guess not,” the woman said, a little surprised. “No, I guess not,” we replied and turned away. Satan’s Daughter continued to put on a fabulous show fake crying across the intersection.

Anyway. My sting swelled up. I came home put ice on it, and then a freshly brewed tea bag mixed with crushed aspirin — and in no time the sting was gone.

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