Saturday Morning

My neighborhood is filled with early risers. Early outdoor workers, I should say. Does every neighborhood have these? They’re out there vacuuming their cars and hosing their plants long before I push the button on the coffee maker. In the winter, the pleasant scraping of their snow shovels lulls be back to sleep.

Here’s the thing – they are silent. I don’t think they’re trying to be quit out of respect for sleeping others. I think they are alone with their thoughts, just them and their hoses. Every once in a while, I’ll join them.

Although I do rise early, I prefer to spend my time drinking coffee on the deck and cruising the Internet on my iPad. If I do engage in some weed pulling or clipping away some of those pickery vines that like to tangle up in my shrubbery, I like to be noticed. So I have no problem shattering the tranquil vibe they all have going on by shouting out “OH YOU SON OF A BITCH!” if I should happen to shake up some bees and they retaliate by heading for my cleavage or trying to fly up my nightgown.

Sometimes I’ll say “OH YOU DIRTY BASTARD!” but that is more of a mutter and I use it in the early evening when a dirty bastard rabbit successfully avoids getting smashed by my shovel.

If I should ever meet up with a snake, I do not have an expletive ready for that encounter.

FYI for anyone concerned about the fate of Gods little creatures that cross my path, let me just say that I do believe that God wants us all to share the earth together just not in the suburbs.

UPDATE: Pulled weeds, hosed things and then I came inside to de-fur and wash two dogs beds and vacuum the first floor in preparation of the dog’s triumphal return from the groomer. All on the same morning. It was utterly exhausting. Now I have to take Advil and a nap. Later on I can resume my customary lifestyle activity of shopping for earrings and makeup.

2 thoughts on “Saturday Morning”

  1. Blessings on the early risers for being quiet.We’ve been living in third world war zone squalor all summer while the street is repeatedly dug up and covered and then redug and recovered for sewer lines and a new sidewalk. 6:30 AM. I could just about live with it except for the damn beep beep beeping when they reverse.

    Just for future reference the Wyoming go-to phrase is SON-Of-A-BITCH for everything else and HOLY SHIT for anything snakelike. Except for my very genteel neighbor who might say “Oh-my” if she were being mugged and “Oh-my-goodness” if she were being murdered.

  2. Trust me, should you ever encounter a _nake, if the expletives don’t come immediately to your lips, you will invent new ones.

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