Good day sunshine
On Tuesday, Mr. Spy was out interviewing zombies (in the morning, surprisingly enough; I would have thought zombies were only available after dark) and a theologian (in the afternoon), so I had the house to myself, which I generally enjoy. Every now and then, though, the noises get to me. Now that I’m not here all the time, they are less familiar and I have to think about them. I was working in my office when I heard footsteps on the back deck. “Strange,” I thought at first, but then I realized it must be the meter reader. He usually walks up one corner of the deck, reads the meter, then walks across the deck to cut through the hedge to the neighbors’ yard. But this time, the footsteps didn’t just cross. They came back. And they wandered around. So I went upstairs to investigate. I found a man in a red lumberjack shirt and a ski hat standing outside my kitchen door. I slid it open and asked, politely, what the hell he was doing there. And then I noticed he had a real estate listing in his hand. He started asking me questions about the house, his voice accented in German. He was very excited about the place, which was nice, but I’m still a little freaked out to have people wandering around my house and peering in windows. Who does that?
Apparently quite a few people. There were people sitting in our driveway taking pictures yesterday afternoon. I feel like I live in a zoo, and not for the usual reasons.
But in general, things are good. Yesterday it was nearly 70 degrees. This meant that I got to take a walk in the cornfield across the road wearing a T-shirt — no sweater, no jacket needed. It was lovely, although muddy. Last week’s snow melted in one fell swoop and I came home with mud soaked up into my jeans nearly to my knees. A good pair of rainboots would probably not be misplaced.
Today it is cooler, but the sun is shining. We got booted out of our house early this morning for a house showing, so instead of sitting in my basement office, I am sitting in a sunny coffee shop. Not the best for concentration, since a pack of babies just came in and they are quite distracting. A toddler was with them and while his mother was ordering for them, in a flash he walked over to the shelf and upended a game of Stratego all over the floor. The mother sprinted over and started picking things up. The owner, who’d been seated at a table on the other side of the shop walked over to her and told her that the games were there to be played with, not to worry and that they’d clean up afterwards. She looked very grateful, as I would have been when AJ was that age.