... to know that the neighborhood weirdo is not me!

We've been in our new house for three weeks now, and I've pretty well narrowed that particular little contest down to two. On the block behind our house, but close enough that we can hear her, is a woman who frequently goes outside and repeats a single word over and over and over and over and over again. I can't always make out what she's saying, but it's a name of some sort, like she's calling a child home for dinner but not bothering to change it up in between repetitions. So, the other night, we were on a walk around the block, and I was fortunate to be near her house when she came out and began her funky little chant. Turns out, she IS calling a name - the name of a cat. One of her cats. One of her ten cats. She has ten indoor cats who apparently didn't get the memo about their "indoor" status, so on a daily basis, one gets out. And that leaves Kathy with the duty of repeating their name for a while, until she gives up, goes inside, worries herself sick, and then, a few hours later, opens the door and magically finds a cat on her doorstep. I suggested that perhaps, given their track record, that maybe she could skip the worrying-herself-sick step, but she seemed pretty entrenched in the routine.

Contestant number two is my right-hand neighbor, whom I've semi-met but generally I've found that people are really happy to wave but are not very in-your-face here. Which is fine by me. Anyway, her name is Pam, and her grandchildren spend a significant part of their summer with her. I haven't learned all of the grandkids' names yet, but one of them is "MatthewJacobyouleaveyoursisteralonehowmanytimesdoihavetotellyou." Seems a little cumbersome to me, and with the number of times she has to repeat his name I'm thinking maybe a shorter name coupled with a remote electric shock device might work better, but who am I to say?

Overall, things are going great in the new house. My father and sister came out for the weekend, and he and Willem have spent all day long buying Manly Things like wallboard and screws, and doing Manly Things like ripping out cabinets and drinking beer, and saying Manly Things like, "Is that 2 and 7/8ths? Because I think we may need to brace that with a 2x4 and then drag it home by the hair." They're turning a room from bare cement storage to my father's bedroom, and it has involved all sorts of testosterone. I've done my part by running herd on the children and occasionally coming to stand in the doorway and flutter and coo, "Oh, it looks great!" *giggle*

Or something like that.

And the even better news is that my in-laws won't be visiting for another two weeks or so. Which reminds me, I never did write about the family reunion debacle of last weekend... not tonight, but I'll try to share that lovely, warm-and-fuzzy story sometime this weekend.

Till then...