Journal of a Sabbatical |
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June 20, 2000 |
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a golf ball |
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Today's Bird Sightings: Today's Reading: Summer: From the Journal of Henry D. Thoreau edited by H.G.O. Blake, Hokkaido Highway Blues by Will Ferguson Today's Starting Pitcher: 2000
Book List
Copyright © 2000, Janet I. Egan |
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There's a golf ball jammed between the screen and the bathroom window downstairs. It's been there for about a week, maybe longer. I first noticed it a week ago. Today I looked a little closer and discovered a gaping hole in the upper left corner of the screen. How on earth the golf ball could have been hit hard enough to break the screen but not to break the window is a mystery to me. What the local kids were doing hitting golf balls at my house remains mysterious too. Usually they hit tennis balls with hockey sticks and I obligingly return the tennis balls that have bounced off the house. Pajama Woman next door wants to know how I got the golf ball in there and did the cat put it there. I guess she didn't see the hole in the screen. And she way overestimates Wilbur's ability to open windows. So she and her son have been speculating endlessly about why I have a golf ball in my window. They already think I'm strange. So I finally got it together to open the window, remove the golf ball, and throw it onto the porch of the kid I think it belongs to. So far the whole gang of kids have gone in and out of that unit three times and not noticed their golf ball is back. Maybe they figured I'd keep it if I ever noticed it. I should go demand that the parents pay to replace the screen, but I don't want the neighbors to think of me as mean and strange when they could just continue thinking of me as strange. Now let's see how long it takes me to cart the screen to the hardware store so they can make me a custom replacement. Meanwhile, life as we know it goes on. Plants mentioned in Thoreau's journal entries for today: blue-eyed grass = Sisyrinchium several species -here's a picture of one, and another species - way bigger than life sized Red Sox lost to Yankees 3 to 0 with Pedro pitching. Where are their bats? Wilbur scent marked me using both sides of his mouth, and he's crunching away on his food. I guess the whatever-it-was bite isn't bothering him as much anymore. |