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five minute free write friday 06/17


like the strangers you have met

If you've met them then they're not really strangers, are they? I live amongst familiar strangers. Above me live a man, a woman, and a small child. Next door to me lives Annie, who's hardly ever home. Sharing my back wall is Betty, whose dogs Briggy and Fred had puppies not too long after I moved in. briggy and Fred are Pomeranian mixed with something else and those puppies were incredibly cute, like pointy noised hamsters. A month ago a skinny, nervous looking woman moved into the apartment above Annie's. I've taken to sitting out on the patio of a vmorning, reading a book with the early sun. Three days ago a man came walkking downstairs around 6am. Yesterday a different man came downstairs around 6am. this morning a WOMAN came down stairs around 6am. At first I thought my new neighbor enjoyed male compaionship; now I don't know what to think. Why shoould I think anythingg at all? Why should I concoct scenarios for a person I don't even know? One morning she herslef came home in the early hours. She took a swig of apple juice from a half gallon container then cuahgt sight of me. "I'm sorry." She said. "For what?" said I. "No need to apologize." What was that about?

I've met a nice woman and her two sons. She's divorced and her boys are a bit older than Jack. We all get along well. It's nice to have found someone in the complex I can relate to.

There's a dad I wonder about. He has three children: a girl Jack's age, a girl a little younger, and a 3 year old boy. I've never seen a mother and the kids don't talk about one. I've never talked to the dad but I've invented all sorts of nice things about him. He's tall, which I like, and has a gap-toothed smile, which I also like. He had long wavy brown hair but buzzed it soon after I first saw him. He's quiet and when he speaks to the kids it's in a low voice marked by an indistinct accent or perhaps a speech impediment. Lately I've seen him hanging out with various women in the complex. I suppose one morning he's the one who will be walking downstairs at 6am.

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So many reasons it's been a long time since we took the boys out thrift store shopping. Yesterday, Tuesday, both of us had a full day off to spend as we pleased.


First we ate at Chaffin's Diner. They seated us in the less-dinery back room, which ended up being a good thing because we sat directly beneath a fan and didn't notice so much the heat. E drank decaff coffee with cream. I didn't notice sugar. Decaff, like his Uncle D. Coffee, like his Mimi.



We hit Shop for a Cause first, where the boys found nothing and subsequently sulked.



Next we pulled into the Humane Society Thrift Store, which I haven't visited in a long time. Historically I haven't found anything there.



Today we hit the treasure jackpot.



A $2 Ziploc bag containing the comprehensive plastic presidential contingent from Washington through Eisenhower.



Of course E had them ordered in a matter of moments.



Finally we escaped the store with a trove of treasures (more than I've found in one place in …

my favorite

Sometimes I dream of operating a food truck specializing in gourmet wok-popped popcorn.

wotd: temporize

temporize \TEM-puh-ryz\, intransitive verb:
1. To be indecisive or evasive in order to gain time or delay action.
2. To comply with the time or occasion; to yield to prevailing opinion or circumstances.
3. To engage in discussions or negotiations so as to gain time (usually followed by 'with').
4. To come to terms (usually followed by 'with').

It's easy to tell yourself that you'll write a daily blog entry using the word of the day from dictionary(dot)com as a prompt, and equally easy to temporize your daily entry by waffling over what to write about, or evading your obligation by procrastination. There. Bedtime.