First of all, EDD CAME OUT OF SURGERY WITH FLYING COLORS!!! It was a long afternoon of waiting yesterday, but after a tedious SIX HOUR surgery, we finally heard good news. So far he is doing wonderfully, though the road to recovery will be a long one. Thank you all for your sweet messages and promises of prayer. They really meant the world to my family. He’s not out of the water yet, but we are so very hopeful.
Second of all, I have a story for you. It’s a good one… nay, a great one. So don’t be frightened off by the fact that “quasi-pornographic photos of me” is in this post’s title. I promise, nobody’s gonna get naked on THIS blog.
Yesterday Matthew and I were going about our business at home on an exceptionally cold and windy day here in Austin, when the doorbell suddenly rang. An unexpected visitor! How intriguing. We opened the door to find our bumbling old backyard neighbor bundled in a puffy jacket and a beanie pulled clear over his ears. He was obviously very flustered, and exclaimed (in a thick southern drawl), “hi! My name’s Billy and I’m your neighbor in the back there; the one with the little dogs! I’m sorry we have to meet on these terms, but the fence between our backyards done blown over!”
Now before we go any further, you absolutely need some background on this “neighbor in the back there with the little dogs.”
Perhaps this recent status update on my Facebook page will put things in perspective for you:
Needless to say, this neighbor and his four obnoxious dogs have been quite a bone of contention in my life, causing me to have uncharacteristically murderous thoughts for a species I usually love even more than my own. So to meet the man behind all the madness was interesting – and even more so interesting after the events that transpired next.
We led Billy through our house and into the backyard where we discussed the fence that was, indeed, swaying wildly in the wind and completely broken apart in spots. And then I led Billy BACK through the house to our front door while Matthew worked on repairing the problem. On our way, Billy covered a lot of ground. He told me of his wife that had left him after 31 years because she had “turned her face from God” and moved to east Austin to live with her mother and wanted to keep the house and wouldn’t even give him a divorce. Once inside, he also stopped to examine our granite countertops and a small niche of wooden decor crosses and the brick wall in our dining room. He was very nice and all, but what I REALLY got a kick out of was what he said to me while he and I were still on the back porch.
You see, our dead Christmas tree is still lying out there, waiting for Christmas tree pick up day, and Billy exclaimed, “OH! What a BEAUTIFUL tree!”
“Yes, yes it was… before it was dead…” I replied.
To that, Billy answered, “Well, I sure enjoyed looking at it through the…” and then his voice trailed off. And I can only assume he meant through the window.
Now don’t get me wrong, I’m ALL FOR peeking into people’s homes through their windows whenever possible. And at night around Christmas time, who DOESN’T admire people’s trees through their windows? So no biggie. I thought it was amusing and only mildly creepy. Until later that night, when Matthew and I were discussing the day’s events at dinner. I laughingly told him about Billy’s Christmas tree comment, and how he must have been looking in our windows at night. And then Matthew got all smiley and started laughing.
He said, “I wasn’t even going to say anything cause I thought he might be a bird watcher or something, but when I had to go out through the guy’s house when I was done fixing the fence, I saw binoculars on the table by the back door.”
Binoculars.
By the back door.
Where all the windows pretty much face into our living room and master bedroom.
Bird watching, Matthew? Really?! I think not.
We are being watched. And Matthew’s take on this is: “there’s no shame to my game, baby.” But MY take on this is: “ummm, it’s pretty freaking creepy and I sort of feel like there are spiders crawling all over me right now.” Either that or perverted old man eyes.
I really don’t know which is worse.
Happy Friday, ya’ll.
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