Yesterday, I decided I would buckle down, and get all domestic. I was done with the filth that I had slid into, and, as the Pillars of Character Assembly that Kelly and Nate had attended at their school the previous week had admonished in some catchy little "song with 2-letter words"... "If it is to be, it is up to me"
So after I took the kids to school, and went to the gym to take out my frustrations on the elliptical, I returned with a vengeance, and hit the ground running.
Five loads of laundry. Check.
Swept and washed the kitchen floor. Check.
Scrubbed out the toilets to a sparkly white shine. Check.
Fed pets. Check.
Finish Skip's Gandalf costume. Check!
Cleaned out the Triops 3.0 pond. Check.
Phone calls. Mostly check.
You see, I was on the phone, letting down (gently) the Travelling Actors (who had called while I was out, wondering if they could stay with us on short notice this weekend. See? I *DO* know how to say "no"!!!), when I heard a thump downstairs. Sort of like when I heard someone trying to come in the front door the other night, but less freaky, because it was the middle of the day, and somehow, I think my mad ninja skillz work better by light of day.
When I got off the phone, I went downstairs, wondering what the thump could have been. It sort of sounded like it came from the front picture window, but WHO is stupid enough to try to come through that when I usually (accidentally) leave my front door unlocked?
I opened the blinds a bit and peeked out.
There, not 4 feet from the front window, right THERE on the grass, was a giant hawk, with a plump quail in his talons.
Yikes, those things look mostrous close up.
And of course, I didn't know where my camera was. So there is no photographic evidence.
You'll just have to take my word for it.
Oh, but I could take a photo of the front porch. It looks like a grey feather bomb exploded.
Then, last night. More surprises.
My best friend here called, just as I was trying to figure out supper, to say that she'd been given a gift card for a restaurant that had just opened in Redwood City, and did I want to bring our family to come 'test the menu'?
Duh! Of course we'll be there. So I hustled the kids into Homer, and called Ken to meet us there, rather than coming all the way home, then turning around. We all met at the restaurant at 6:30, and had the BEST Hunan food I think I've ever had. Ooh. I have photos.
Salty string beans with shredded pork and chili. Oh! Man! My salivary glands just went into overdrive.
Chow fat with bbq pork in foreground. A tiny glimpse of amazing lemon chicken with peas and carrots in the rear. Oh! I'm drowning in my own Pavlovian response!
Such. Great. Food!
(and we had a gift card! Is there anything better than delicious food that costs a fraction of what you expect to pay?)
SO, we're rolling our fat selves back to the cars, and we get to the Peet's on the corner, where Ken had parked, and we're joking about going into Peet's for "dessert", even though we can't stuff another speck in, when Ken notices that he's got something on his windshield. A ticket? But the parking meters are only in effect until 6pm. We're stumped. Until Ken goes over to look at it.
"I saw a White Charger back into your car and smash your grille. It drove away. I wrote down the license plate... XXX-XXX. My name is xxxxx, and my phone number is xxx-xxxx if the police need to contact me."
And yes, it was dark, and you know what? If that note hadn't been on the car, Ken might not have noticed the damage until we got home. Or until his car didn't start, or drove funny because of the damage.
On the one hand? What a bummer! His car is smashed. On the other? Hooray for Good Samaritans who go out of their way to help and get involved.
We went into the Peet's, to ask for a phone book so we could get the non-emergency number for the local police. The people that worked in there were SO helpful. Apparently, it had JUST happened. And the guy that witnessed it was a Peet's regular, so they all vouched for him.
While we waited for the police to arrive, the Peet's folks made Ken a latte (he figured he'd better buy something, seeing as he'd be waiting in their shop), and then comped us three lovely pastries and glasses of milk for the kids. They were so kind. I fully intend on writing to the Peet's head office to let them know that they've got a good group at that location.
No sooner had we got home than the phone rang, and a very contrite White Charger driver was calling Ken to apologize profusely and offer to pay fully for any damage repairs. Apparently he'd been on the receiving end of a very pointed lecture from a stern officer about how it was well within Ken's rights to have him arrested for Hit and Run, and he should thank his lucky stars that Ken was being so reasonable, and he'd better jump right up and make amends as soon as possible to avoid any further legal action by either Ken OR the police for his rash decision to leave the scene.
Heh.
But it's a drag, because now Ken has to run around and get estimates, and actually get the work done.
I hope it's really expensive. And I hope Ken gets a fun and fancy rental car out of the deal.
But that's just me. Ken is much more forgiving.
But now I must go and get ready for Babies and Books.
I think I'll take the Gandalf kit out for a Test Drive.
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