Posts Tagged ‘Neighborhood’

Crazy Kids

Monday, April 25th, 2011

Have to post these three photos of Tiller and the twins down the street.* They, along with Rollie, play together about 3 or 4 afternoons a week. Not sure why they were all dressed up, but think it may have had something to do with the twins being dressed up for Mardi Gras.

*Really, this one is just for me and their mom, Lauren.

Busy and My Current Happy Place

Monday, February 8th, 2010

Things are a little crazy in DogwoodWorld today. Fun stuff like oil change, kid drop off and pickup, dry cleaning, canvassing the n’hood while getting a “run” in (it felt like some kind of Survivor challenge, where you had to put the flyer in each mailbox in the fastest time. Lots of run, stop, run, stop. People gave me some strange looks.

So, posting might be sporadic this week with all the things i have going on (Dekalb education cuts, school newsletter, parents needing help moving big stuff around, Valentine’s day parties. You know. Life.)

In the meantime, think Mardi Gras. Think of wearing the fun Mardi Gras hat. It makes everything feel festive.

Dogwood Girl

What? No Dixie Cups??

Monday, July 27th, 2009

Another sign that we made the right choice when we picked a new neighborhood . . . we stopped by a real live lemonade stand on the way back from our picnic at the park. Two freckle-faced red-headed kids were running it. They even said, “Yes, M’am” and “You’re welcome.” When questioned on what they would do with the funds, they said they were “saving for college.”

Are you kidding me?!

Rollie was like, “I’d buy hot wheels!”

Oh, and the going rate for a pink lemonade, in about a 6 oz cup, is fifty cents. They even put a slice of lemon on the edge of the cup. I am so not kidding.

What? No Dixie Cups for ten cents? I kinda miss the Dixie cup.

In case you are in the area and want to help out the enterprising young chaps, they are located between the park and my house.

Heartwarming Story of the Day

Wednesday, February 7th, 2007

This one was lost in the shuffle of my trip to Orlando. It happened a few weeks ago.

Todd helped me dye my hair and took his wedding ring off to do it. He set the ring on the counter, then helped me with the hair, then put the ring back on. Or so he thought.

After going to the hardware store, then coming home and putting pine straw out over the entire area of beds in our yard, he came inside and realized he was not wearing his ring. He sheepishly informed me. I think he thought I was angry that he lost the ring, but I wasn’t. As the day went on, we turned the house upside down looking for the ring, and I became more and more aware that I was a little upset that he had lost the ring. Not upset with him, but upset that it was gone. Sure, we could replace it, but it wouldn’t be the same ring that he had slipped on my finger that April day back in 2001, as I giggled and cried and he sweat nervously. It would have to be newly-engraved with our mysterious code word and the date. It just wouldn’t be the same.

We looked on the floor of the bathroom. We looked in the drain. We looked in the bathtub, the trash cans. We looked on the floors upstairs. We gave Rollie the Spanish Inquisition, and still i think he had no clue what a wedding ring even is. I even kept an eye on Tiller’s poop for a couple days. We walked the yard, and looked in the cars. We pretty much gave up. Oh, well. C’est la vie. It is only a ring. It is replaceable, and it isn’t platinum, just white gold.

Todd had decided that it was lost while he was putting out the pine straw. Talk about the proverbial needle in a haystack. He had traversed every square inch of the beds putting out the straw, so it could be anywhere. On the off chance that someone had one, he posted on the East Atlanta community board to see if anyone had a metal detector. As if.

Sure enough, there was a guy who owned one in the Village. Seems that he asked for it for Christmas so that he could search for civil war artifacts in his yard. (The Battle of Atlanta took place right here in East Atlanta. People find bullets and the like all the time here.) So, this nice guy agreed to come out and help us look for the ring. He took the time out of his Saturday to help strangers find a wedding band. Pretty nice.

The guy showed up, he showed Todd how to work the metal detector, and Todd started scanning the beds, while me and the guy chatted. Turns out he’s a Cartographer – never met a Cartographer, and it sounds really archaic, but was actually really interesting to talk about.

He was here for a good thirty minutes. Todd finished two the beds and was about halfway through the third one. I had given up hope, but was appreciative of the guy coming out to help, and of Todd for giving it the old college try in finding the ring, even though there was a snowball’s chance in hell of finding it. Then the detector beeped again (we had false alarms all over the yard already – there is an old t.v. buried back there, for god’s sake) and Todd leaned down, and stood up in triumph. There it was, sitting right next to the Gardenia the whole time.

I almost cried, I almost hugged the stranger, Todd and I kissed. It was like movie for a moment.

When you have been married for five years, even the little things become meaningful. They may even become more meaningful than the big ones.

And here’s a big Thank You! to our Good Samaritan neighbor, the Eros of East Atlanta, the metal detector guy.