The dead woman across the street changed her flag to a pointsettia. Which leads me to wonder, is she reading my blog from the grave?
(When my friend Paula was having chemo this year, she had to sit in a room with a bunch of people who were similarly receiving chemo. I asked if she'd get on her iPhone with my blog and announce to everyone, "When I get MY chemo, I just love to read that Bye Bye, Pie blog!"
And you know she never did? Some people are just awful friends.)
Someone not only changed my poor deceased neighbor's little flag, they blew her leaves to the curb, while ours remain unattractively strewn across our lawn, dry and brown. Who do I have to kill to get our leaves blown around here?
We do not own a leaf blower. I am morally opposed to them. Except for now, when we have 20485023 hours of raking to do and I think, I wish I had one of those loud, gassy, global-warming-inducing leaf blowers. I mean, what's the spotted owl ever done for me? Why doesn't he come over here and rake my leaves?
Would it be weird of me to walk through her house when they sell it? The neighbor's, not the spotted owl's. I always wanted to see inside. It has a cute little screened-in porch.
Do you think I was a vulture in my last life?
In other news, we are putting up the giant, white, sparkly, Liberace's garage sale Christmas tree today. I have been slowly replacing our normal things, such as our 1950s cat salt-and-pepper shakers, with our ridiculous Christmas salt-and-pepper shakers, and I would get up to take a picture but I don't want to.
Okay, FINE. GOD.
Here are our cat salt-and-pepper shakers, encased in bubble wrap, because you don't want something this nice to get broken. Actually, I love these ludicrous cat salt-and-pepper shakers. Because I am a gramma in 1950.
Here are our equally tasteful Christmas salt-and-pepper shakers. I know you are saying, "How can I be elegant and sophisticated like June?" You can't. You have to be born with style like this.
I remember my grandmother had this phoenix bird, with jewels all on it, and you opened its wings and looked inside, and instead of seeing its guts and ribs and things, inexplicably there were Native Americans getting married in there. You know, naturally. I loved that effing phoenix with the jewels.
Oh! But also too? While I was up with the camera?
My very best most wonderful Pal From MA sent me these slippers!!! I switched our welcome mat to a (wait for it) Christmas mat today, and these kept me so WARM out there. Yes, I went outside in my pajamas. It's not like the across-the-street neighbor is gonna judge me. She's dead.
Am I going STRAIGHT to hell, or will they debate it in limbo for awhile, because of all the animals I have rescued?
Oh, and AnnNanandAmy is comment of the week with her ice cream. Ice milk. Whatever.
