Dream House

We were doing some back-to-school- shopping for Annabelle at the mall today when we stopped into the Apple store. A rising 5th grader who isn't scheduled to get her first phone until middle school, Annabelle headed straight for the iPhone X display. Even though they have been out for months, I haven't seen the latest from Apple in person, and so I was curious myself. We stood side by side playing with the apps and camera and figuring out how to navigate with no home button.

"This is a pretty nice phone," I admitted.

"They're a thousand dollars!" Annabelle cried. "iPhone X for X-spensive!" she finished.

"Yeah," I said, "but don't you want one?"

She shrugged. "Of course!"

"I'll buy you one when we win the lottery," I promised her. "We can all have one!"

"And a car?" she asked.

"I guess it depends on how much we win," I answered. "If we have enough, sure. What else would you want?"

She paused. We are both very privileged to have pretty much all we need and most of what we want, iPhone X X-cepted.

"How about a big beach house right on the ocean that has enough room for the whole family?" I suggested.

Her whole face lit up. "Yes!"

We spent the next 15 minutes planning out the whole place-- 10 bedrooms, all with their own baths and TVs, a deck, a screen porch, a pool, a game room with a big screen, and the best kitchen ever.

Oh, and an investment account to pay insurance and upkeep on the place. (That was my sister's idea.)

Now we just need to get that winning ticket.

(For Annabelle’s version of the day, click here.)

Birdless

"It's more fun than you even think it will be!" Josh told me a few weeks ago when we were talking about the pop-up electric scooter rentals that were dotting the corners of our neighborhood. "You will really like it."

I downloaded the app, created an account, and was ready to ride except... there wasn't a scooter nearby when I wanted one, we left town, I forgot about it, and we left town again.

"Do you guys have those Bird scooters near you?" my sister asked me this morning.

"Oh my gosh, yes!" I answered. "I can't wait to try one! Have you done it yet?"

She looked a little surprised. "Um, no. We've been too busy hating on them because no one who uses them here wears a helmet or follows any traffic rules. They are all over the park and the Beltline, and someone is going to get seriously hurt someday soon."

"I would follow the rules," I said. "And Josh told me it's more fun than you even think it will be."

On the way home from lunch we saw one of the simple black and silver machines parked just a few blocks from the house. When we got home, I pulled up the app on my phone. "There's one right down the street!" I reported. "Let's go!"

We decided to combine scooting with shopping, and a little while later we set off. "There it is!" I pointed excitedly at the opposite corner. "My scooter! I'll be back for you!" I called and on we continued to Trader Joe's. Not 20 minutes later we were on our way home, but the scooter was gone! Someone else had rolled away with my first ride.

Crestfallen, I pulled out my phone. There were no others available on the way home, but there was one a little past the house and around the corner, so we dropped the groceries and Courtney, Annabelle and I trotted up the hill. It's more fun than I even think it will be! I told myself.

Arriving at the spot marked by the pin on the map, we found... nothing. Josh had told me that some people near him lock the scooters up on their property so that they will have them, even though it's against the rules. I could have reported it missing, but since I was still inexperienced with the process,  I sighed and let it go.

The app showed one more option for us, about 4 blocks to the south, but the winged icon kept appearing and disappearing. My sister was optimistic. "Let's go see," she said.

Why not? I thought. It's more fun than I think it will be!

"There it is!" I said as we approached a bike-share station, and as the three of us neared the corner, a white van pulled up and 2 guys jumped out and grabbed the 2 scooters that were leaning against the rack. After a lot of conversation and phone-checking, they hopped on one of the scooters and rolled away as we stood, jaws open.

I shook my head. "That was not meant to be."

And the three of us turned toward home, vowing to scoot another day. How can we not? It's obviously going to be more fun than I even think it will be.

(EXCITING WRITING NEWS!!! This week Annabelle and I are going to post each of our versions of the same topic. For Annabelle's version of the tragic trilogy of lost scooters, click here.)

Rapid Transit

We made it to Atlanta in 10 hours with 2 stops:
one for peeing
and one for peaches.

Share and Share Alike

It has been very dry here for the last several weeks, and I have spent every morning when I'm in town thoroughly watering the garden. Even so, aside from a handful of banana peppers, any significant harvest is still a few weeks away. There's always that first tomato, though, that swells and ripens well ahead of any others. That one I was looking forward to picking today before heading off to Atlanta tomorrow.

Unfortunately, the birds had other ideas. They are so thirsty from the drought that they poke their beaks like a straw into anything semi-ripe. And so I found my first perfect tomato punctured and partially consumed when I went to water this morning.

I gasped and picked it anyway, and when I got home I washed it thoroughly, cut away the birdy parts, and ate it for breakfast.

And it was delicious!

Note to self: Place water bowls in the garden for the birds.

Can't Complain

I spent the afternoon on my deck in a rocking chair, petting the cats and writing. Tonight my writing group is coming over and we're going to have lobster sliders and corn on the cob.

Not a bad life!

Finicky

After picking some Maine lobsters for dinner tomorrow night, I had a few scraps and some gorgeous scarlet tomalley left over so I thought I'd give the cats a little treat. I chopped everything finely and presented it to them with a flourish. They trotted eagerly to their dishes and sniffed the unexpected presentation with enthusiasm. Then they stopped, looked at each other, shook their heads in confusion, switched dishes, looked at me, and then literally turned their noses up and walked away.

"I'm not trying to force anybody in this house to eat lobster!" I told them, but then shrugged and sprinkled a couple of pieces of dry cat food over the offensive sea bug. The magical tinkle of kibble hitting metal got them back in the kitchen, and once they were eating, it all was all good, and they ate their lobster, too.

I hoped they enjoyed it, because that's probably the last time it will ever be served to them!

Jiggity-Jig

The cats are fine.
Lucy is thrilled to see all her doggie friends.
The garden is dry, but doing well.
The cucumbers are now pickles.
The bed is comfortable,
and the sunrise floods our treetop room
with golden light.
There is still a hole in the ceiling,
and the washer and dryer are still broken.
The hanging baskets and containers
are thriving--
full of herbs and flowers.
The refrigerator is restocked.
and we have been to the movies,
a documentary, to be exact.