In recent days we have been experiencing some Spring-like weather. Now I'm not completely oblivious to the fact that according to the calendar and mass media, and oh yes, those fancy scienceymatiffic folks, it actually is Spring, so I shouldn't be surprised by the overall weather being Spring-like. But I don't quite trust the weather gods just yet.
For all I know, there could be a metre of snow headed my way, ready to wallop all my over-confident actions so the gods can sit back and laugh about it while pointing fingers at my lameness. Lame-labelling actions like packing away all the hats, gloves, snowpants, and parkas in the back of the storage closet, leaving the house without packing
BTW if that wasn't a tangent, I don't know what one is.
So yes trying to resume the topic track, nice weather brings out my neighbours (honest, that really is the topic). For the most part, I see a lot less of my neighbours in the cold weather months and I'm sure it has nothing to do with me refusing to leave the house for months on end. Because I may hide from the elements but I have windows people, AND binoculars, and I know how to use them, all stealth-like even. Anyhow, seeing so many of the neighbours during this past week was where I was headed in this "it shouldn't be this long yet it is" post.
So yes (still talking, which is unbelievable because once you reach the pie, you'll feel lightheaded. And by lightheaded, I might mean slightly resentful if you think of your time as being precious) I've been meaning to mention these neighbours for a while because they both always make me double take for no other reason than I'm prone to discrete rubber necking when it comes to famous or interesting looking people. Or at least I hope it's discrete. Oh great, now something else to be hyper paranoid about.
Anyhow, to make a completely short story longer than ever necessary, almost making it borderline criminal in preamble: For the past three years, I've been meaning to mention I live on the same block as the faux Bob from Twin Peaks and faux Wilford Brimley. Seriously. These two men are what one might call: dead ringers. Scouts honour. And of course I have no witnesses but my life is like a sitcom so I know I'll be proven right sometime by the end of the season and/or character arc.
Yeah, so the faux-celebrities of my life come out in when the thaw starts and I don't know much more about these two unrelated faux celebs other than faux-Bob wears denim all the time and his grey hair is always flying behind him plus he always looks kind of angry and faux Wilford hangs out at the local doughnut shop, wears a plaid shirt and fishing hat all the freakin' time. And he always looks like he's contemplating oats. It's whacked.
No wait, correction: this post is whacked.
Anyhow, on a completely unrelated note: my daughter was so angry with me the other day she called me a bee. She stomped her feet and spat at me with an accusing finger for emphasis "You. Are. A. BEE!" and I immediately thought "that's the best you've got kid? you have so much to learn my grasshopper." but I held my tongue. Sometimes I'm surprised by my own maturity. But that is always quickly cancelled by my lack of focus.
Oh look: shiny pie.
[image: green shock's flickr ]