Sunday, June 30, 2013

Dinner at 6

Rain, this morning. So the unicorn meat eating cats are much more interested in the canned unicorn I opened for them, earlier, rather than the hunt. I think it is the very choice that they have, to go or not, that they crave when their window is closed...I have woken so late, right after dawn, that the dog, Max, is also awake.

In the crazyness of the suburbs, where I now live, there can be no barking before 7 in the morning, and none after 10 at night. I am truly from 'the country' and find the restrictions and rules here very bizarre. In the country, dogs bark randomly at night, whenever you let them out, and it's a good thing, too. I wanted Eddie to bark at anyone who happened to be out in the middle of nowhere, cruising the woods. It meant that they were up to no good. I wanted them to know I had a dog capable of holding them off until the police arrived. Eddie was a big dog, with a big bark, which I was glad of.

Here, in the city, dogs don't have to pee at night, apparently. And one doesn't want dogs to bark at men who sneak around at night.

Also, it's the grass mowing thingy. Everyone, and I mean everyone who is anyone, mows the lawn on Friday, or at the latest, other days will do. It doesn't do to have your lawn a different length than one's neighbors, for some reason. All the lawns must look uniform. This is a big difference from the country, where my neighbors were glad to have me mow at anytime I felt like it. Including 3 AM. Just as long as the lawn was groomed somewhat, suited my neighbors in the country.

Every house in this neighborhood has a tool shed. They look like miniature barns. It's quite uniform, and quite odd looking, to my country eyes.

There are things that one does, and one doesn't do. No one's front curtains are open. No one is permitted to see into one's living room from the outside. It suggests a lot of closet drinkers, hiding in their living rooms during the day, drinking it up. Or performing human sacrifice in the living room. In the country, most windows and doors are thrown wide open; it is impossible to "peep" without being seen, the houses are so far apart. If one chooses to drink, one simply goes to the woods, or on the back deck, which can't be seen from the other houses or anywhere else for that matter. I would know.

In the country, cats can roam all day, everyday without comment from one's neighbors about them pooping in the gardens. Of course, with my luck, at the Old House I did have one nasty family live across the road who did complain about the cats. But it seemed unreasonable, with deer, possums, racoons, and bear also shitting in their flowers. They were kooks, and everyone knew it. They would feel right at home, where I now live.

Uniformity was simply not a goal in the country. After all, that's why one moves to the country, so everyone else will mind their own damn business. One may be as odd and different as one pleases, without comment or censure. The guy next door to the Old House had horses in his back yard. No one thought that was odd. He didn't have to mow his grass. Some people in the country kept goats for that purpose, or for fun.

No one here would dream of putting some lovely horses in the yard, much less a goat pen. Or chickens. Or keeping rabbits. Or installing a pond in the backyard. I mean, I have one, but it's disguised as a pool, and it must have a fence surrounding it, to keep stray children out. And to look uniform.

I don't wander about in my pajamas, or the old house-cleaning clothes in the city/burbs. Eccentricity is discouraged here. In the country, I could wander around in whatever I felt like, or not. It was the choice, you see? Now, the nasty neighbor's husband wandered around quite potted and naked at times, but that was his right, until he stepped out where a group of children could see him. Nothing like that would happen here. He would be arrested the moment he stepped out of the bathroom without a stitch of clothes on...

And, at 9:30 AM, every Sunday here, the cars go to church and return a while later. While we in the country, wandered about the woods and fields everyday, with no cars to transport us to a different, better world.


  1. As you know..I'm in the country. I love to walk my dogs around the block in my striped flannel pajama bottoms and a tshirt that doesnt match with no bra, and my filthy garden shoes. Does it get any better? The other morning, my son and I were getting ready to leave, and he dropped his drawers right by the car and took a whiz. Seems he didn't realize he had to pee while we were in the house. While I hate the drive, I'm not sure I could go back to the burbs.

  2. As a suburbian... I don't care... I walk my fluffy spoiled brat in pajamas. I think my neighbors love my eccentricity.