random thoughts – Day 1,183 – (Tuesday) – homefront

There hasn’t yet been a sighting of the groundhogs emerging from under the shed, and I wondered if they relocated. The grass at the usual access points, unreachable by the mower, is tall and undisturbed. That made it extra surprising today when I checked for the mail and a large groundhog was standing at the bottom of the front stairs sniffing. It looked large and bulky, but the critter squeezed under the space between the gate and the asphalt. It waddle bolted across the shared driveway, climbed up the wall curving around the neighbor’s front yard, and scampered through their garden. It’s amazing how fast they can run. 

This likely explains why Winston has been spending so much time sniffing the front steps the past couple weeks. And now there is a new critter to check for when letting him out. There already were the various cats, skunk, bunnies, and now groundhog.

After work, there was a trip downtown for the annual meeting of The Brush. There were two police vehicles and four police officers on the sidewalk on Merrimack Street outside the library. It seemed odd.

After parking the car and while walking the couple blocks to The Brush, three boys, probably around 12, were ranting to three grown men sitting on a park bench outside the Victorian Park on Shattuck Street. I heard “take my bicycle” in the garbled yelling. At the end of the block, at the park with the fountain, several police officers were on the sidewalk, and a van and patrol car were parked on the corner. A police officer yelled, “Who else wants their bike taken today?” and kids were scrambling and scattering.

Winnie on the couch.

The kids on bikes have been a dangerous hot mess. These kids tonight are younger than the ones that drive through traffic doing wheelies and terrorizing drivers and the even older riders of the dirt bikes that take over the streets. As I crossed Market Street, an officer loaded a bicycle into the back of the van.

After the meeting, all was quiet in the downtown streets, and it was the usual quiet, solitary night at home with the front door and the deck slider opened for the breezes. Winston napped and begged for cookies and is back to his usual behavior. He still seems like he’s forgotten where the furniture has been for the past almost seven years, but overall, it’s a big relief. 

With the house cooled down from the evening air, the slider was pushed closed. To close it tight requires a little pull. It was during the final pull when the door handle came loose. And I promise you, I am not strong enough to rip off a door handle. It’s a miracle I don’t pull a muscle brushing my teeth.  

What fun! The mysteriously broken kitchen window isn't repaired yet (but it's scheduled), and now there is a broken door latch to deal with. It feels like The BungaLowell is confidently marching back into Whiskey Tango Foxtrot territory.