Somebody is clanging cymbals outside. I can't
imagine why. at first I thought it was just the ice cream
truck but I looked out the window and can see no truck.
Maybe there's a rogue military parade in the neighborhood. I
think I hear a drum now too. In the fall I can sometimes
hear the band at the Lawrence High football games if it's
hot and humid so the sound carries but nobody plays football
in May.
There it goes again. I look out the window. Still don't
see anything but it seems to be coming from inside one of
the units on the other side of the courtyard. Oh, lord one
of those little boys had probably got a drum kit! Bad enough
that they hit baseballs against my back door (and throw
frisbees against it) despite my having paid the condo extra
to put a gate on my fence because I'm on the end of the
courtyard. Home plate is usually right behind my fence so
they should be hitting the balls the other way but these
kids haven't hit a fair ball in ages. They foul off pitch
after pitch until they run out of balls and then they climb
over my fence instead of opening the gate... you'd think
they'd mind my raspberry bushes - quite thorny - but I guess
when you're out of balls you don't notice the thorns.
Now somebody is banging a snare drum. There's gotta be a
hidden drum kit here somewhere. And to think I felt guilty
about playing the bodhran with a towel stuffed in it to
dampen it. Of course, I'm just jealous because RSI has
eliminated any possibility of my ever drumming again. Snare
drum, cymbals, clang clang clang. It's a good thing it's
only 6:00PM and not midnight or some ungodly hour.
Condo living is highly overrated.
We walked for a good hour or so this morning
and then lunched on grilled cheese and espresso as usual at
Rita's. I was dripping with sweat. It is very humid
today.
After lunch we swapped stories. Joan-east told a story
about her husband's car losing its brakes on a hairpin turn
on the way to an atomic power plant on their honeymoon. Rita
and I were both trying to figure out if she'd really said
"atomic power plant". Finally Rita asked: "Did you say
atomic power plant?" Joan-east says that they were driving
through western Mass. on their honeymoon and saw the sign
for the atomic power plant and she wanted to see it. When
they finally got to it, she was disappointed because she
couldn't see anything.
Me: "They have tours of those plants now. You could tour
Seabrook."
Rita: "... and renew your marriage vows!"
Joan: non-stop laughter
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