I had just started to walk on the bike path behind Woodman’s yesterday, when a silver truck beeped it’s horn. I glanced behind after two more beeps to see what the fuss was about, and saw a figure inside the truck waving at me. I stopped and squinted to get a better look at the person who was making Woodman shoppers drive around him (next to the car wash on the liqueur side). I finally walked up close enough to discern that I did not know the mid forties man.

He rolled part of his window down and leaned over “OH, I am so sorry! I thought you were my good friend. You know you look just like her!” He gestured long hair with his hands.

“Ah yes,” I nodded “That’s okay.” I began to turn, when he interrupted me.

“It’s just that … well do you know me? You just seem so familiar…” he waited.
“Uh, no, I don’t know you. Sorry.”

“Are you Italian?” he asked.

Surprised, I replied “No, I am not. I am native American though.”

“OH Native American! That’s so cool!” he paused. Two cars drove around him rather huffily. “So, are you like from Arizona? Where are you from?”

“No, I am not from Arizona — I am from … uh… Northern Wisconsin.” I was getting a little tired of this man. I was beginning to realize this was more than just a mistaken identity.

“So,” he paused and looked at me, a tad desperately, “So, do you want to getgether sometime? Do you want to get together right now?”

“No,” I said “I am going home.”

“OH! You live around here? How far? Can I give you a ride home?” I glanced into his truck. It was clean, a box of tissues sat on the passenger side of the car. Everything with a little dingy and grey.

“No thank you,” I replied and took a step back. “I can get home just fine.”

“Well, can we get together sometime?” he asked again.

“No,” I state much more firmly, “I am married, and now I am going home.” At that moment I turned around and walked away. From behind me he hollered “Native Americans rock!”

I shook my head in bemused laughter.

“NO I mean it! They seriously rock!” he shouted.

I walked quickly away thanking my good fortune that there was no way a truck could follow me on the path behind Woodman’s.

So yeah, I got hit on by an old dude in a truck. I have to admit that one has never happened before. I once had a young, Northwestern man stop me on my way to work to declare that I was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen — but never a guy stopping traffic. Gosh, where do these people come from? And you know what? He did look familiar — he looked that guy from HBO….Curb Your Enthusiasm


Anyway. This is DH’s first week of unemployment. IT’s going fairly well, he already got a job offer yesterday for one place — but I hope he waits until the end of the week to decide what job he is going to take. He has two more interviews to do …. and yeah. By Friday he should have an answer — I hope. I want to buy new shoes — the sensible shoes I got last year … I hate. They are uncomfortable and sucky, and my other winter shoes are all too old and probably thrown out.

I am having a party for Tim this Saturday to celebrate his birthday– I’ll be making some pulled meat sandwiches and dessert, so if you have time and are able you should stop by for a drink and some food — at 8:00 ish. Email or call me for directions, or whatever it is that you need.

Now to address some comments: Phil — nailing a two by four on the roof … is unthinkable when you live with someone like Tim. He would never in a million year considering … I think the idea of tying a rope off to a tree on the other side of the house is probably a better option. And we were those stupid people with a ladder that just barely reached underneath the garage, that we would step up on to the roof all dangerous like. But not any more! I found a way of putting the ladder nex the garage and the roof and kind of sheltering it/holding it in. It worked quite well — and if I did fall it was only from the garage in stead of the house. The difference of about two feet.

Hilary – Yeah I wore gloves — not that it mattered much because the scooping glove was soon saturated with old decaying sludge. IT was just faster than using my little hand shovel — and I was all for fast.

Jess/James — I would LOVE to have a fireplace, but that comes with chaching. I think I am going to insist that the next house (if we ever get one) have at least a fireplace. Heck, I am still waiting to get one of those outdoor fireplaces! I have a ton of brush piling up for that very purpose.

And lastly — I still want my cookie party ….and I think I’ll do it December provided we aren’t moving. I am thinking the first or second weekend of December — leaning towards December 11 — although the 18th is free too. Keep it in mind when you make plans for the upcoming holiday season. I’ll know for sure by next week (I hope).

Man, I am hungry. I didn’t eat breakfast. Yesterday all I had was cookies.

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