Wednesday, July 20, 2005
Seagull Squall. The elderly neighbors next door mean well I'm sure. Perhaps they are even proud that they have been able to create a peaceful Noah's Ark of sorts. In every other respect, however, they are the elderly couple you hope you'll never end up becoming. But first the animals. They feed them. All kinds. As punctual as a Swiss clock comes a squawk of wildlife couples demanding their food every evening: X for the seagulls... Y for Scruffy the raccoon and her six kits. Z for Petunia the skunk, the pigeons, and stray cats. This is all fine in the grand scheme of things since our ever diligent Autralian Shepard patrols the perimeters. Our only real danger are the sated seagulls flying over our yard back towards the harbor after supper i.e. splat, splat, and splosh. But that's it folks. That is the highlight of my neighbors' day. The clock on their mantle stopped ticking twenty years ago and everything has stayed exactly as it was then, including their hair-do's. They are sloshed by five just in time to put out the feed bowl.
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