Pass The Salt, Please

The view out the window at World Headquarters. This is the street that sold me when I bought the shack.

Beautiful sunsets, a lilac bush, bird bath. It’s a good view for not much money.

But with the beauty, comes a price. At certain times of the day this thoroughfare is heavily traveled with teenagers on their way to and from school and the nearby parks (another selling point at the time). Last summer the City re-designed the intersection to slow traffic down. The kids sometimes get it on two wheels around the corner.

After 10 years of living here I can tell what time it is just by the traffic sounds, and 7:45 AM is when we start getting busy with it.

7:45 is also the time that Mr. Greenjeans conducts a sacred ceremony in the “library” and this morning services were in full swing.

Despite this 3rd round of ice, school was in session today and the world is moving according to schedule.

Right outside his window, Mr. Greenjeans could hear the traffic noise and thought to himself: “Somebody gonna hit the house!”

And then as if it were a self-fulfilling prophesy: Ker-Thunk!

A vehicle manned by a teenage boy skated through the stop sign, jumped the curb and hurtled into my house. It was bound to happen. In ten years of living here, the kids have drove through the lawn, bit my tree, hit the fence, and now……sideswiped my brand new a.c. unit.

Well, it was either that, the tree, the fire plug, or the shed full of explosives. Good God Y’all!

Mr. Greenjeans was indisposed so I sprang into action, to survey the damage. The kid had parked on the street and was pulling my ornamental iron out of his undercarriage while he dialed up Dad.

He was visibly shaken, and thankful he was able to get it sideways and back on the road. Very apologetic.

I went inside and donned my best jump suit and prepared to Meet The Parents.

Can I get a salt truck over here?