Oats

[Boogus Epirus Aurelius]

It rained today, quite a bit.

Having cleared the week of all work responsibilities and seeing as it was the beginning of spring break, I made a firm commitment to take a few mental health days.

Not that I’m mentally unhealthy or anything. But I’m a huge proponent of setting aside chunks of time for complete lethargy especially in the midst of what people might consider a “stressful” schedule.

It’s not laziness, it’s self discovery. Bullshit.

So, I woke up at the crack of ten (I heard roosters, but there weren’t any outside of my window on the fence that actually isn’t there anymore) and tried to sink into a forced morning routine. Breakfast and a shower and maybe a strong hit of tom waits wailing in the background as an ode to the rain. We all know tom waits is meant to be enjoyed with a highball of whisky and a rainy mood and a rainier patio.

Once eleven o clock rolled around, I decided to amp up my half assed breakfast attempts and settle into a “brunch” state of mind instead. By brunch, I really mean an extra scraping of semi-expired fruit on top of the eggs and toast. It works in a way, especially seeing as my apartment was again mostly devoid of food.


Grocery shopping wasn’t really on the agenda, but I felt oddly compelled to restock, and I dressed quickly and headed outside.

Now, there’s an older woman who lives right behind my apartment and we sort of share yards in a slight sense. She’s a widow and compulsively gardens in the tiny space that she has. Still, she was somehow able to turn a tiny plot into a suburban refuge, complete with flowerbeds and tasteful figurines and a bird bath and a small vegetable garden thing, which was guarded by some chicken wire. And it absolutely blooms in the springtime. It’s a really well done little spot and she puts heavy amounts of time in the summer tending to everything there.

As I’m walking out the door, trying to dodge raindrops, I happened to glance over in the direction of her yard, still barren from winter, but showing signs of preparation for the warmer weather. And there she was, slowly bending over, picking up shards of glass from the globe that used to sit on a pedestal on the edge of the garden plot as her feet avoided the severed head of one of the stone sculptures. The chicken wire was bent and twisted and some of the stone flower beds were kicked over.

Some little fucks had apparently walked back there and decided to cause a quick bit of damage.

Some of the things were irreparable.

It’s not the material destruction that bothered me and which likely crushed her, but the thought behind the whole thing. I’m sure there was nothing personal in what these people did, but her dead husband installed the flower beds that now lay cracked in the mud. I’m not a fan of excess sentimentalism (and cliches), but there really are some things that hold meaning to people in very real ways.

I helped her clear a few of the heavier things to the curb and offered to give her a hand with things when the weather warmed up, but she assured me she could handle it, even going so far as to suggest lining the yard with bear traps.

Where do you buy those pressure activated claw traps?

[Andria]

I felt sad reading that but when I got to the part that you helped her it made me feel a bit better  nice work.

Idk where to buy bear traps though. Try amazon. They might even sell people traps