Finally got some sleep last night – except for the chewing and scratching interruptions brought to you by the itchy Bean – so walked around the bayou early. Several houses down from me is a project house – one that has been in the works pre-K like mine. The owner was sitting on his porch with his laptop and as I winded around the large pile of torn out bricks on the sidewalk he looked up sheepishly and said, “Sorry about the bricks. Hard to find help these days.” Don’t I know it, I told him. His landscaping is meticulous with the brickless house as a backdrop.
I passed the LaLa and S’s kids were pulling up – rather early I might add. I had gone through yesterday to inspect and the trim that S and J are putting up in no way compares to what K had done. Sigh. Every board was primed and painted before put in place – now S and J are just throwing the stuff up there. Again, sigh.
As I rounded the next bend, I saw S walking D’s dog – I stopped her and told her I had heard about D’s sister passing and I’m sorry – she looked dark and gloomy and said thanks, but kept her head down as she went by. S has been D’s sister’s caretaker while she struggled with lung cancer and from what I heard refused treatment after her husband died recently. I had seen S with a couple of women when I drove by them yesterday – they were hugging each other as if something had happened but at the time I didn’t know about D’s sister. D is a famous death penalty attorney here in these parts – she lives around the corner from the LaLa on a street lined with small cottages.
Next I saw C – fresh back from Santa Fe where he and P have bought a second home. He was tanned and wearing his usual grimace. He said the house was great and being home is great too. P went to Asheville to visit M – who has deserted both her and me, since M used to be my massage therapist – and a good one at that. But C’s friend L gave me her sister’s number the other night at Bacchanal – and said she is good – her name is September. I kind of like that.
As I was about to cross to the other side of the bayou I ran into L with the dogs – he was curt – being Gomez – but I felt a little standoffish myself since I refused to walk in the wet grass – without my Dansko’s my Converse get wet and I can’t wear my Dansko’s till my foot heals. Danskos are the perfect bayou shoes. Meanwhile, I caught up again with L ironically by the Friendship bridge – and then we saw C across the bayou with Lance, dog of mystery. So we crossed over so that Gomez’s boys could go to the park with Lance and play ball. For one transitional moment L said he had come across the bridge to talk to me but instead would send me an email – basically wondering about our friendship. I said we are friends and he said no we’re not.
C and Gomez went to the ballpark by Cabrini and I kept walking again passed the LaLa and towards the Can – BSF #2 was on the grass and staring intently as he is want to do – I said Good Morning and he responded in kind, breaking the stare for the first time. He might have the same problem with distance vision as I do, which is why he stares at me like that, I’m not sure he belongs in the BSF category as I am never close enough to him to really see for myself.