So as my readers (if I have any except Nessa) know I am not from the USA, and because of that I am not terribly familiar with North American wildlife. I know about coyotes, rattlers, birds, coatis, and even bears and deer - you know stuff that doesn't come in the bloody yard! Now last year when we moved to Boston I discovered opossums and raccoons, and while I have seen them in the neighborhood they have never actually bothered me and raccoons are really, really cute.
So now we move onto my new occupation/skill - please if you are a PETA person stop reading now!
I was sitting on the back porch chatting to my sister in law about maternity clothes and I noticed that the dogs were tossing what I thought was toy between them. It looked like a ducky from Pet Smart. Oh sweet Jesus I suddenly realise that it is not a toy - it is something real! I hang up the phone and dash down to the patio and realize that the "toy" is an opossum. But Jo knows jack about these weird rat/kangaroo creature. I see it looking like it is in full rigor, it seems to gasp a breath - I thought agonal - freaked out - picked it up and tossed it about 30 feet into the parking lot next door. I run inside shaking my hands squealing "We don't have nice dogs, we don't have nice dogs"
Robert comes out - goes over to the "dead possum" - and points out that possums play dead - hence the term "playing possum". He flips the critter into a pet carrier and leaves it on the side porch. Lo and behold 2 hours later there is a very pissed off very much alive opossum sitting in a pet carrier baring it's 50 teeth at us!
The possum has now run away to safer dog and possum tosser free pastures! So I am now officially a "possum tosser"
Newborn Poppy
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Monday, August 25, 2008
A whole week without drama in the 'hood
So the 17 year old who was shot last week is doing okay, and the 4 year old is apparently doing okay too, off the vent and progressing. A 19 year old known gang banger has been arraigned - apparently he has a very long history of gang violence. Awesome - so why are these kids wandering around unfettered by the norms of a decent society. I must admit I have been raised to be very tolerant of other people, and to respect other people but I have to admit that I am having some issues lately - don't know if it's age or just being surrounded by so much stuff that just seems wrong.
Our next door neighbors are Muslims, now in the grand scheme of things given everything that has happened in the past few years one would expect us to be a little leery. No, we're not - they are the most lovely people we have met. They are friendly, funny. engaging and their children are just the most polite and respectful kids ever.
So when am I nervous? Well now, walking past Bragdon St I get a chill. (Foolishly I decided that I would walk down the back lane after picking up the Sunday papers - still could smell cordite and could easily see the bullet holes.). Groups of young guys in very baggy pants, with tats and their do-rags and baseball hats, especially with cell phones on walky talky settings. Any group of young guys hanging out in yards or on porches in wife beaters and baseball shorts drinking with hip hop blasting. I know I am racially profiling people and there is a part of me that hates myself for it, but at the same time what else can I do? The entire culture is set up around gang culture, and even if many of these kids are not affiliated they are pose in the thug life and walk the walk and talk the talk so what else am I supposed to do?
The events of the past 10 days have really pushed us to think more seriously about buying. So on Saturday we went to look at what we thought was a lovely old 5 bedroom Victorian in Fitchburg. We were so in love with this house - it has a turret! So we drive the 50 miles through some super pretty country, and then came Fitchburg. Okay so we get there and it is kinda tatty, (a bit like that drive into Prescott), but you know it's the outskirts, maybe by the house it'll be different cutesy and arty as it is supposed to be close to the state college. WRONG. WRONG. WRONG. Ugly, ugly, ugly, ugly. We drive up poorly maintained roads that are steep and winding. We see quite a few folk who look like they should live on Bragdon St. Then we find the dream house - not such a dream - peeling paint, higgledy piggledy and money pit screaming from every dusty window. And it is only walking distance to the college and the commuter rail if you have a sled or downhill skis in the winter. Then as we are leaving we go past the homies with their wife beaters and baggy pants, drinking their beer on the front porch with the hip hop blasting from the SUV. Talk about home away from home!
So we are now firmly looking only at places east of 295 - preferably Plymouth, Salem or Gloucester. A year I hope - Christmas next year ideally we will be out new home - our home with no landlords or landladies, no gang bangers, no kids with air pistols, no gang tags on every corner.
Our next door neighbors are Muslims, now in the grand scheme of things given everything that has happened in the past few years one would expect us to be a little leery. No, we're not - they are the most lovely people we have met. They are friendly, funny. engaging and their children are just the most polite and respectful kids ever.
So when am I nervous? Well now, walking past Bragdon St I get a chill. (Foolishly I decided that I would walk down the back lane after picking up the Sunday papers - still could smell cordite and could easily see the bullet holes.). Groups of young guys in very baggy pants, with tats and their do-rags and baseball hats, especially with cell phones on walky talky settings. Any group of young guys hanging out in yards or on porches in wife beaters and baseball shorts drinking with hip hop blasting. I know I am racially profiling people and there is a part of me that hates myself for it, but at the same time what else can I do? The entire culture is set up around gang culture, and even if many of these kids are not affiliated they are pose in the thug life and walk the walk and talk the talk so what else am I supposed to do?
The events of the past 10 days have really pushed us to think more seriously about buying. So on Saturday we went to look at what we thought was a lovely old 5 bedroom Victorian in Fitchburg. We were so in love with this house - it has a turret! So we drive the 50 miles through some super pretty country, and then came Fitchburg. Okay so we get there and it is kinda tatty, (a bit like that drive into Prescott), but you know it's the outskirts, maybe by the house it'll be different cutesy and arty as it is supposed to be close to the state college. WRONG. WRONG. WRONG. Ugly, ugly, ugly, ugly. We drive up poorly maintained roads that are steep and winding. We see quite a few folk who look like they should live on Bragdon St. Then we find the dream house - not such a dream - peeling paint, higgledy piggledy and money pit screaming from every dusty window. And it is only walking distance to the college and the commuter rail if you have a sled or downhill skis in the winter. Then as we are leaving we go past the homies with their wife beaters and baggy pants, drinking their beer on the front porch with the hip hop blasting from the SUV. Talk about home away from home!
So we are now firmly looking only at places east of 295 - preferably Plymouth, Salem or Gloucester. A year I hope - Christmas next year ideally we will be out new home - our home with no landlords or landladies, no gang bangers, no kids with air pistols, no gang tags on every corner.
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