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Thursday, June 7, 2012

Week #51 Summer! Writers Post

Week #51 Summer!

Writers Post

Summer is finally here.  The kids are out of school.  The air is filled with laughter, barking, pollen, sunshine, birds, and bugs. 

Taking my morning walk I witnessed a bird chasing an orange bug.  It’s wings beat so quickly.  It zigged and zagged, with the wren following it’s every evasive move.  I couldn’t tell what type of bug it was, they moved as fighter pilots in “Top Gun”.  I could nearly see goggles on the bird.

Watching for many moments, my mind drifts.  Science purports the predator as the more intelligent of any type of species. I have come to the conclusion that I disagree!  What?! That’s big for me to disagree with Animal Planet or the Science Channel. These two channels are my religion.

While standing in the middle of the sidewalk staring after the fighter pilots engaging in their warfare, I determined the prey must first invent a new evading mechanism before the predator can even begin to match it and attempt to outmaneuver.  Therefore, with the advent of “first thought” one must conclude that the prey is actually more intelligent then predator who merely emulates the prey.  Wait a minute, I feel a small “void”  in the force.  My head is a little dizzy and my knees are a tad weak.

With the sprit, sprit, sprit noise of oncoming lawn sprinklers…I move from my position and begin walking again. On this clear skied, ninety degree day, I surely wouldn’t want to get wet…
Around the corner I am accosted by five youngsters under the age of seven. Emulating entrepreneurs as seen on television commercials, or one too many episodes of  Our Gang, the neighborhood kids have set up a lemon aid stand.  In the divine wisdom of a clear warm day and youthful exuberance, they have set up their lemon aid stand on a dead end street.  It’s about 10:00am, with no traffic.  At least they set up their table in the shade of a tree for they had no ice.

As the kids were close to my home, I cut across lawns and ducked into my house.  Emerging with my change purse, I walked across the street among shouts and hoots of joy.  Finally, a customer! I felt like a rock start.  Whew, they have a patient parent!  The oldest, I would say about six or seven years old, is standing with his grubby little hands on the pitcher.  The front of his yellow t-shirt is now festooned with a wet and sticky Transformer. The little one, about two,  pulled up on his big-wheel and said something…I think he said “you live over there”…I don’t think it was a question rather he was telling me what he knew.  The other three kids were all leaning on the table grinning.  They could see the gray streaks in this Grandmother’s hair.  They knew without a doubt they were getting far more than their asking price of twenty-five cents.  One born every minute. Depositing the three quarters into the oldest sister’s hand (noting she had tried to wipe off the lemon aid in the grass) every one of those kids gave me that lizard grin.
Strolling off with my seventy-five cent Dixie cup full of lemon aid, I noticed there did seem to be a few more bees and wasps around those five kids.  Probably the stand would be closed with a stinging lesson.
Up the steeper sidewalk I stride.  I have on my tennis shoes that will help tone and tighten your butt and calves.  While I am panting and puffing from the exertion, so far I haven’t seen any improvement in my physic, but then, I am pretty far from that  25 year old body they advertise. I don’t know of anything short of a brain transplant that might get me to that girl!

I take a small sip of the lemon aid.  Pretty certain the kids dumped lemon juice into some water and waved the sugar bowl near it.  Wow!  Not since enjoying Sweet Tarts have I had my mouth pucker like that! Trying to un “fish face” myself. Thinking of Jack Nicholson in Easy Rider; nic, nic, nic,  I dumped the rest of the glass onto a neighbors lawn. That ought to kill off a few grubs. I’m really glad they weren’t trying to sell cookies too, but then again, maybe it would quiet down the neighborhood if I fed it to a passing dog…

A new neighbor pulls into their driveway.  It’s the first I have seen of them, except of course, my watching as they drive to and from work.  If I don’t keep an eye on these people, who will?! She is a pretty young blonde.  She gets out of her car and walks to the mailbox.  I say “Hello.” She ignores me.  I guess they don’t talk to their neighbors in Texas. (says Texas on the license plate) I notice a ground bee’s hole in their yard…karma… she’ll get her comeuppance!  

Past the well trimmed condo units.  The condo’s near us are mostly filled with snow birds.  One “gentleman”, a term I’m not all together certain applies, likes to drink his coffee outside while walking through his fabulous flower garden.  He carries his coffee mug while walking his paths, donned in his robe and a pair of short-shorts from the 70’s.  They are those REALLY short silky things with the stripe up the side.  I am sure he still has every color they ever came in, since I have seen ALL of them.  Ya know, those ex-runners just think they have it all “goin’ for them” even after they stop running.  Knocked kneed, boney legged, pot bellied….I’m just saying…..It’s not always as pretty as his flowers.

There is one house, in our neighborhood, that we know is a rental.  Based on the exterior, the owners have been away for a very, very, very long time.  The once brown house has been partially painted.  Most of the front and two of the windows are now pumpkin orange.  Some of the shutters are burgundy while a few others are lip-stick pink.  He apparently doesn’t own a ladder as he only paints as high as he can reach, therefore the peak of the house and the garage are both still brown.  The tops of the shutters are the original colors. The brush strokes are nearly indistinguishable, I think sarcastically. In the front yard he, or they, have decided they did not want lawn.  There are various sized rock strewn across the front yard, with exception of the property lines.  There he inserted stumps and tree limbs into the ground, painted them Kelly green with peach and burgundy accents.  Along both side property lines he put up sagging chicken wire for his vines. No vines grow, but the chicken wire has tarnished nicely.  It must be a “work in progress” since there are unopened bags of something in the yard.  They have been there for YEARS!  Oh yes, he also painted part of the driveway pumpkin orange.  Lovely.  His one redeeming quality?  They have a dog that stays in their back yard and does not bark when you walk past.  I like that dog.  Might be my favorite dog in the entire universe.  The void in the “force” is healing. 

I stumble over an uneven square on the sidewalk.  After these many daily walks, one would think I would remember to pick up my flippers.  I am too busy gawking at the kids playing in the yards and sing-song calling to one another, smelling the wonderful aroma of morning coffee and flowers, simply watching life happen.  Summer is here and the air is filled with laughter, barking, pollen, sunshine, birds, and bugs.  


  1. Great writing! I feel as though I just went on a walk with you!

    You are a brave, brave woman to actually taste the lemonade - but, awfully nice to have bought some :)

    I enjoyed this very much! Over from Share A Blog...

  2. I felt like I was right by your side on your walk. I had to laugh at the lemonade. That must have been awful!! LOL