From high on top of my perch (12/10/2010)

From high up my perch, there is the Amazon Prime guy, again. No, not for us. For the folks across the street. Not that we do not spend our money there. Heck, we are bleeding Amazon money, but not today. My wife even yelled to me, up the stairs: “Was that for us?” Actually, Alexa would tell us. “Alexa what are my notifications?”

However, I did not want to talk about Alexa or Amazon. I wanted to talk about my roost upstairs, overlooking the road in front of us. At times it is distracting as well as entertaining sitting here looking out of my window.

You get to see a baby blue unmarked construction vehicle with a ladder on the roof, and there goes the Prime vehicle, on its way back out of the neighborhood. People going to work, coming home. You see the regulars, walking their dogs: Bill walking Sophie; the woman walking Chaco; the guys from around the corner walking their what looks like a scotty but much larger; the big guy who collects military vehicles but actually is somewhat meek with his dog; the older lady who first walks her dog and then you see her speed walking by. You have your regular runners, the women with strollers, the groups of women trying to exercise and lose weight (I think). There is a (I think retired) couple who walk by every afternoon hand-in-hand, she is about 2 or 3 inches taller than he is. I also see people walk about 10 homes and walk back and I think: “is that all.”

You have a few individuals, but I suspect they have some social anxiety. Not bad, but it took a long time for them to even acknowledge me when I was outside and met them on my (or our walk). Especially one gal, she walks straight like an arrow, her arms cocked and really out to get some exercise. She is fun; you can sometime catch her and her husband shooting bow and arrow in their back yard. The other day I watched them throwing knives and axes.

Then there are cyclists. In the morning, there are often two cyclists on recumbent bikes. These two do not live in the neighborhood, but it is safe to bike here. I know they do not live here because they are members of the yacht club we belong to, and I know where they live. While typing this I have already seen two others bike by. The fun part is the kids from two houses down. They love to bike. But, the minute I step out off the front door, they race home, throw their bikes on the front lawn and run in the house. My wife and I are known as extremely liberal and these kids’ parents are T-party conservatives (Q-anon?). I wonder if the kids were told to watch out for us because we eat kids? I always smile at them and wave. You get the picture.

Finally, you have my favorite: Felicity. Felicity is pregnant; she walks her Great Dane: Bruce, who is a friend of our dog. When Bruce escapes from his home or yard, he comes to visit us, to play with Jasper out dog. Felicity has four kids already and you know she is coming by when you see some of her sons on a little bike coming by. They herald her and Bruce. Felicity and gang will sometimes stop over to talk and play in our yard, which is a welcome distraction from teleworking and looking at a computer screen. No cannibalistic fear here! Oh well, just some musing while looking out of the window. But now I have to go downstairs; the mail lady just delivered a (Christmas?) package.

There goes Felicity and Bruce.  I was prepared and knew they were coming by because there were little boys on small bike that  came by heralding her imminent appearance.  (photo was taken on November 16 when I still have leaves on the trees, now a month later it is all bare).