Wednesday, July 09, 2008

booking through the garden at a high rate of speed

This morning when I went out to walk the dogs, there was a box turtle in front of the garage. At first I thought he was plastic - it's kind of sad when you see a wild creature and your first thought is "I wonder why a neighborhood kid would have left a toy turtle in my driveway?" - but then I realized that he was, in fact, a real, living and breathing box turtle on some kind of turtle mission that was taking him slowly across my driveway. Box turtles are one of my favorite animals on the planet so I was totally thrilled and immediately took several pictures, none of which do his handsome self much justice. Then, after some brief soul searching (Is this ethical? Should I be all good galactic citizen and go for non-interference? But what if he goes in the street and gets hit by a car? Fuck, I need the help with the slugs.) I picked him up and took him to the vegetable garden where I hope he will stay for some time. There's already a small black snake living in the garden: together, as a crime-fighting team, they'll give me like 100% pest coverage and hey, the cartoon rights and their tiny superhero costumes will be awesome. He was a bit indignant when I picked him up, waving his arms around grumpily, but once I put him down in the garden, he looked around, liked what he saw and took off for the beans with extreme rapidity. For a turtle, that is.

On the house front, I feel somewhat less doom laden this morning. I was so discouraged and depressed yesterday (yeah, yeah, that's a total self pity outburst, there in that post below. It happens.) that I just went home, refused to answer my phone, ate too much goat cheese and went to bed. I dreamed about doing vandalism and other crimes with a good looking bad boy (also, kissing, yay, I have no idea who that guy was but I will happily break into lakefront houses with him again anytime) and awoke feeling better. Yes, that is wrong, but hey, I'm a child of the lawless 80s and a Repo Man fan; sometimes, you just gotta go do some crimes, even or especially if they're only happening in the dreamtime. Fuck paying for sushi. And then meeting the turtle helped too. Turtles always brighten my whole day.

The other thing that helped is that my wonderful real estate agent and reader of this blog, the lovely D, kept telling me to keep on trying and I did, despite my natural inclination to go to bed and just stay there, whimpering softly. Thus, I had a long and very good conversation with the super nice people at Self Help Credit Union and it appears all may not be lost. It may be lost, but, ya know, it may not and I'm going to find that out. Bless their beautiful nonprofit hearts - they may be actually able to get me a mortgage after all. However, don't start cheering yet - even if I do get a mortgage, the houselet may well be hopeless, since the woman who lives there apparently does not really want to sell it after all - damn it. But. At least I'm getting my proverbial ducks in their proverbial row (if you had ducks, why the hell would you be wanting them to line up? I mean, that's so OCD.) should a miracle of some kind occur. Therefore, I am, as usual, waiting for a miracle.

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