My favorite time of year has arrived. In the spirit of it all, I bought spunky heirloom apples, striped squash, and four pumpkins for the front entrance of the house. We live in a L.L. Bean catalog this time of year.
So, I'm sitting in the still of the morning, drinking coffee, breeze flowing in, all is right in the world and I hear the voice of deliverance,
"how long do ya bet those a' gonna stay around heah*"
the lady laughs, "they'll be smashed before dahhk*"
* translation: heah = here and dahhk = dark in the language of bostonians*
I wanted to go outside and tap my foot and tell them that no one will smash my pumpkins or I'll have their head(s). However, I was in my house clothes with hair a-muck. If I WERE to call out the wolves, laughing and smashing would ensue and I'd be hopeless with bad hair.
The countdown begins on the pumpkins.
On Day 1, I spied on four young folk walking to school. I thought for sure they would tamper. Nope. They didn't even notice my display.
Day 2: sure they are gone and actually knock over a computer and glass in the process of looking out the window. Still there. Maybe I'm paranoid.
No comments:
Post a Comment