Boob, and there is nothing salacious about it.

 As I am want to look for people who pay me to look, sometimes you run into something a bit unexpected.   Thus I give you, this:

 

NOTICE that his wife never changed her last name.  Sometimes, you come across that, and there is usually a reason. 

Local gossip

 

So the girls are I were outside gossiping.  A family around the block sold their house for an obscene amount of money earlier in the month.  How obscene? Seven digits, two commas, not counting cents.

Part of the deal was that they had to vacate in 21 days. 

Why? 

"No one knows," remarked Maribelle. "But for that money, I'd bark like a seal and catch a fish in my mouth." 

"When you are dangling that many dollars in front of someone, you do what you have to do.  Cookie, aren't they moving to Columbus?" asked Delphine.

"Not Columbus.  New Albany.  The same and not the same."

"It should have been you guys," said Maribelle.

Damn right.  

Anyhow we wondering about who these people are moving in because not one house in this neighborhood has gone "for that much money, evah," said Candy.  Candy grew up here and her great grandfather was a founding member of the community. 

Some of the girls wondered if they would have children.  Would they have teens?  Could they be empty nesters?

Please, don't be a Trumper, was something I am sure we were all thinking.

I wondered out loud if it was two men who "look better in shorts, enjoyed working outside in the sun, and wouldn't mind the ogling."

I was expecting to get a rise out of Delphine, the neighborhood prissy pants, but she just looked at the house and said "Alright by me."

This got many an arched eyebrow.  Delphine is never one to cheer on skimpy clothes. Usually, she wants to pass petitions about TV shows with too much skin. 

"Why I started watching it because I thought it would be about people playing games in costumes," she said once passing out slips of paper with an address for an online petition to clean up Game of Thrones as if Kings Landing were the red light district downtown.  "But all I see are bare-breasted women and men waving their swords."

Blue Tesla Kaitlyn (not to be confused with White Tesla Kaitlyn down the block) asked what had gotten into her.

"Ladies, It's what hasn't gotten into me. I have been cooped up in a house since March 2020 with my husband, and three teenage and 'tween girls.  That's a lot to deal with.  And let's face it, I love my daughters, but Gary isn't what he used to be."

We all agreed to that.  A lot to deal with, that is.  

Frankly, I don't know how she could let Gary even be in the same room with her.  I mean, he's nice enough, he gives me the willies.

"Was Gary anything to look at in his youth," Candy asked? 

Delphine said "kind of. I guess. Well not much. A lot happens in 20 years."  Her eyes were following one of the moving company employees.  The one with the biceps.  

"I listened to my mother and married a good Christian man. After sixteen months on lockdown and restricted access, I need some eye candy."

"Sixteen months of looking at Bill and asking what's for dinner, and were just tired of everything," said Kaitlyn.

"The husband and I are at that point.  Nothing sounds good," I added.

"But would be refreshing would be some eye candy," said Delphine. 

It certainly would, Delphine.  It certainly would be. 

But we'll see.  And if it comes true, Cookie will let you know. 

Going through the motions

Nothing new to report today.  Even after a good gossip session with my neighbor Gert, not much to report.

Life has been a "Going through the motions" kind of day.  Me, puttering about.  The Husband working for The Man.  Even the dogs have a "Meh" attitude. 

Too muggy to be outside, too sleepy to go anywhere, and meatloaf for dinner with mashed potatoes and gravy. 

Tomorrow, it's the grocery, and frankly more of the same.  

Men of leisure.

 

Well, it had to happen.  

After 16 months of playing by the rules, and after frustrations - and the walls - were closing in Cookie and Husband.   

Something needed to be done.  

And that was...

TRAVEL!

We made a very brief trip to Ohio. 

How brief? 

An overnight in Cleveland to see Cookie's oldest friend, and a lunch with a sibling, then down to Columbus for a brief bounce around to attend two dinners, and a high school graduation party for the what used to be the child who grew up next to us.  

GOD!  Does Cookie miss O-H-I-O!  And so does the Husband, too. 

And we ate all of the best from the memories that we could.  No five-star dining, we. 

We dined at Cap City Diner with friends.  We ate at Hudson 29 with friends because it was next to the hotel.  We ate at Corky and Lenny's because Cookie needed his chopped liver.  We at Culver's for lunch and enjoyed coffee and pie at Bob Evans during a torrential downpour and electrical storm.   And Pizza - Pizza - Pizza!

Some of you may be shocked that we didn't eat at better places, but you know what - we do that here in Baltimore.  When we go home we want what we want, and what we can't get here.  

So when Cookie wants Romano-crusted chicken in red pepper cream sauce, the craving has to be observed. 

The other thing about being home is that cookie could breathe without having his rescue inhaler at the ready.  What a treat!

While we were back, we worked on a "Walking" of a cemetery.  A "Walking" is when you go to a cemetery and walk about, and record what you find.  

This was a rural cemetery that is disintegrating because of air pollution and the anhydrous ammonia in the air.  Anhydrous ammonia is used to soften dirt for no-till planting.  But it's applied in a spray form.  And once it's airborne, either during the spraying or in environmental water cycling, it attacks marble and dissolves it.  It's destroying rural cemeteries in this country.  

So we walk these cemeteries from time to time to keep an eye on the tombstones to see which ones survive and which ones have broken down, and which ones have disappeared.   And that important. 

There is an old saying that you are never truly dead until people stop saying your name.  So during these walks, with the camera and clipboard, Cookie says the names of all the stones that are encountered.  

No one lives with the expectations that their life and name will vanish at some point, but that is happening.  So this is Cookie's part to keep those names, alive. 

Other than that, we also relaxed, saw familiar places, and loved every minute of being men of leisure. 

On the way back to Baltimore, I looked at the husband and said "only six years until we retire and can move back home."

He squeezed my hand and said, "I am counting the days."