Wednesdays in Rockton:
Here in Townieville I live in a cute little neighborhood called Rockton. Not all the neighborhoods have names in Townieville and while it's one of the first times I lived somewhere that didn't have my name somewhere in the address (more on that later) I think a neighborhood name adds some neighborhood flavor. And I love mine.
Wednesdays in Rockton usually start out with me waking up to hear the recycling truck driving away. If I've forgotten yet again curse words follow in the wake of its engine. The hubs gets a kick out of my temporary trucker mouth over the recycling. This Wednesdays I thought for sure I got it right until I walked out the door with Dolly the Wonder Dog and saw this:
Seriously...recycling is every other week. It wasn't last week, so it should be this week right? This is seriously something I just can't get right. I could reference the schedule I have posted in a cabinet but then I'd have to remember if I live North or South of Rt 30 and I far too directionally challenged for that.
So I shook it off and walked down the lovely streets of my neighborhood. Halfway through Dolly's walk I realized I didn't have any bags on the leash. There are some awesome neighbors that wouldn't mind if Dolly doodled in their yard once in a while. The only problem is Dolly is picky about where she doodles and she prefers to do it on the yard of the person who is least likely to let it go and most likely to catch her. I urged her to go on Big Pat's yard then I wondered if I could drag her to my Aunt's yard, but she is stubborn like her Mommy and dug her heals in and did her business on the Call In Neighbors yard. I call him Call in Neighbor because he calls into the local radio shows every morning and one can never be sure of what he will say. He has even called in to report that a certain public figure didn't clean up after his dog. He once yelled mid-doodle that I was supposed to pick up after the dog, never mind that I already had the bag in hand. If I figure out a way to get Dolly to go in it, I'll let you know there Call In Guy. Then I'll call Jay Leno. Anyway.
So yeah, now I have to hope he hasn't seen it, get back to the house, grab a bag and clean it up. It was still early enough for him to get a call in and I don't need that on top of the recycling. I ran Dolly back to the house, passing the running neighbor who runs every day in safari clothes. Seriously, rain or shine he is in all khaki with a baseball cap with a cloth flap in the back to protect his neck from the sun. Neighborhood running man will never get skin cancer and I've got to give him props for it.
After dropping the dog back at the house I refilled the bags on the leash, ran back to the scene of the crime and picked up after my picky doggie. On my way back I saw Call In Neighbor walking down a side street and wiped my brow in relief. Getting closer to my house, I couldn't help but reflect on the characters in my neighborhood. I have some crazy people surrounding me, but I can't judge because now I'm the lady who walks down the street with a bag of poop, a dog leash, and no dog in sight. And if you think that went unnoticed, you've never been to Townieville.