Around 8:30 a.m., I was dragging my trash cans full of landscape debris out to the street for pickup the next day. Poppie had done it the last few weeks and I felt like it was my turn.
Well, lo and behold, what do I find in our right-of-way but a pair of stray slippers. Adult-sized. I stood there and looked at those slippers in wonderment and just a tad of anxiety. Did I miss cop cars and all kinds of excitement the night before that would explain why someone was blown out of their slippers? It’s a cinch I would never hear something like that going on in the dead of night. I sleep with one of those white noise machines running so that I don’t hear the things that bump and scream in the night. The worst worry of all — did I miss the rapture?
The slippers caused me to look down the street where Virginia lived most of her life but is now renting her place out. The first renters were mostly fine. The current batch, well, I dunno. I’ve seen a woman over there with red hair. Primary red. Red, white and blue red. I’m getting old and stuff like that boggles my mind. What’s next? Lime green hair?
Well. What I saw on the street in front of Red’s house was a pile of trash with a Yard Art chair among the trash that appeared to be standing on its own four feet. I couldn’t help myself. I walked over to look. The chair was in very good condition and even had some paint scraped off. Perfect yard art. I hauled that chair home.
Once I got the chair home, I went back for the broken down trellises that I knew Poppie could fix. They weren’t the best plastic but if I get a year out of them, hey, it didn’t cost me anything.
As I was hauling the trellises home, I had to laugh at myself. Here I was raising an eyebrow at Red’s choice of hair color yet I was trash picking in front of her house. Just who’s crazy?