The End of an Era
All good things come to an end, as they say...
A day I've been eagerly awaiting forever finally arrived this past Monday: I happened to look out our bedroom window and say that Cherkoff's crappy truck has at long last been tagged with a neon orange "We'll Be Impounding This Shit-Heap in Exactly One Week's Time" sticker...
The thing doesn't even run—and literally has not left this spot since I moved in here the day after Black Friday of 2022—so I'd say the action is beyond merited.
Later that morning, our new downstairs neighbors were blasting their music SO loud that my phone was actually able to identify the song! I spent the better part of an hour fuming—mostly trying to decide how we should best try to deal with that if it becomes a regular thing...
A short time later I was out in the kitchen making myself some lunch, and there was a knock on our door: Rosie had brought us some lunch of her own...
These people are, by almost every metric, even louder than our crappy old neighbors ever were: They let their little two-year-old run around in circles basically around the clock—but it's all hardwood floors down there; so his stompy footsteps reverberate right up through the walls as though they were hammering in nails.
And the music is... infrequent but LOUD...
Yet, they're about the friendliest people you could ever meet... and so I'm really conflicted about how to try to mitigate these issues: Giving them a dose of their own medicine—even a little one—just seems mean, even though it would be completely justified.
I'll keep thinking.
When Athennia got home later, I gushed about the sticker on Cherkoff's truck... only for her to quickly assure me that they'd tagged his ugly-ass Cherokee out on the main road as well!
We gotta take a drive around the block!
And sure enough...
BA-HA-HA-HA-HA! Just look at this monstrosity...
If I had a few hours with nothing to do, I'd probably edit this photo from last April, and digitally remove both vehicles so that it's just a picture of Cherkoff mourning his lost loves...
But in all seriousness, it really kind of makes me wonder what happened to the guy: It's not like him to let his most prized possessions just languish like this; so, I'd wager that he's either dead or in jail.
You didn't have to die, bud; you just had to go export your noise elsewhere.
Wednesday I had plans to head over to my parents and work in our garden. But Athennia's foot has been busted for a few months and we haven't been on a decent hike in forever; so I briefly stopped at Playwicki Park on the way...
Found something interesting on the bridge...
This is a log of driftwood, perfectly balanced on the tiny ledge of one of the pillars...
I harvested the last of our tomatoes and peppers before ripping out those plants and dragging them off to the compost pile; so, for the time being, if anyone asks what we're growing, the answer is basically "um... rosemary, mostly"...
...though I sowed some radish and carrot seeds in the empty space to see if we'll get a crop before winter.
Fast-forward to yesterday, when we celebrated Steve's 39th birthday!
My parents made grilled chicken, corn, potatoes, and of course cake...
...with candles that Steve's too old to blow out on his own now; so the girls helped...
We got him a funny card that we knew Liv would enjoy as well...
...with a gift to match, that's as much for the girls as it is for Steve :)
Then it was playtime...
Meanwhile, Liv has been comically stuck on the whole "Mark and Paul" bit since way back in July; and one of her current catchphrases is to randomly tilt her head slightly to the side and ask in a falsetto voice,
What about YOU, Mark and Paul?
So, she was sitting next to me on the sofa and asked,
What about YOU, Mark and Paul?
...to which I responded by asking her,
Hey Liv, what if there were NO Marks; but there was a BIG Paul, a MEDIUM Paul, and a LITTLE PAUL?
She pondered this for all of two seconds before she answered,
What about YOU, Paul and Paul and Paul?
Well played, Liv! Well played.