Just Another Day

 Some years back, I saw a set of these Fireking Peach Lustre dishes at GoodWill, for some ridiculous price. I think it was something like $16 for a four place setting - four cups, four saucers, four small bowls, four desert plates, four dinner plates. They triggered some sort of half remembered thing in my brain. I recognized them immediately. I had a vision of them coming in washing powder. Did my mother get them that way? While I don't remember her having a set of these dishes, it was interesting to me to find that they were given in boxes of soap. Perhaps my mother had them, but I don't know for sure, since I can't connect them to a specific place or person. They simply felt so very familiar.

These ones I do, remember, however, and I could even tell you that they came in boxes of Duz. I know that my mom had them for many years, and I remember the excitement of opening up the box of soap to see what dish we got. I remember the house that we lived in which would peg me at no older than 7.

But, I digress. I snapped those peach lustre dishes up and they've been tucked away. I don't have a lot of cupboard space here, and so I've never pulled them out, but I can use them at the new house, and I'm excited about that. My Corelleware will go in the pantry in the hoosier cabinet for times when we have company. 

Today, I got another 'want'. 

Silverware. 

Hampton Court, 1926, silver plate. 66 pieces for $30. They just were so delicate and shiiiiiiiiiny... Tim said, very sensibly, "You don't need them." 

And he was right. 

But I did want them, and that's almost the same thing. (Kind of.) 

I went to look at them, telling myself that I didn't need them, but somehow they are sitting on my kitchen table even as we speak. 

$30 isn't awful, I told myself. I felt better when I looked on ebay and found that I'd gotten a very nice deal on them, which made me feel loads better because I truly did not need them. 

We showed the apartment today, and for the first time, we really had a discussion with a tenant about neighborhood safety. The house is on the quiet end of our street. We have three houses in a two block range, and we've never had to think about it before. 

The person seemed very nervous when I talked to them on the phone. Some people do have difficulties. We recognize that. I made the appointment for 1PM, and we got to the house, knowing that this was going to be a different kind of situation. 

We waited at the house, and right on schedule, the person showed up. The situation was much more different than we expected. They were a transvestitetransgender (thanks to Boud - I did not know. Now I do.) Very nice. Very nervous. They loved the apartment. They thought it was very well maintained. They loved the extra bedroom, and thought it could be used for yoga. Long distance runner. Mountain biker. The balcony was wonderful. The river was wonderful. (They are a nature photographer.)

I wasn't sure how to approach things, but decided to simply address the elephant in the room forthrightly. I said, "I want you to be happy here. I know that there are many LGTBQ supporters on this street, but I'm sure that you saw the T---P signs as well." Nervously, the answer was given. They don't drive. They walk or bike everywhere, and they use the bike trail (close to the house) every day. They've walked the street pretty much daily, and greeted the people they met, and no one has ever failed to greet them back. 

I was glad to hear that. In these times, it just seems like the ugliest voices are the loudest. I explained that the downstairs tenant was an ally (I ushered at his nephew's wedding some years back) and that the house itself was safe. 

They looked at me and said, "I've dealt with this before," and we all knew this was truth. They waited, anxiously, thinking that perhaps we would not rent to them. Which seems sad, really. We have protections. At least I thought we did. At this point, who can tell for sure though? 

They took an application, but I think that it is merely a formality. We know all we need to know. This one is not a 'moaning minnie' (to quote Bovey Belle). 

Tim picked up my chicken coop today, and we will take it to the new house tomorrow. 

I can't even bring myself to address the new bombshell: the bombings in Yemen. The fact that the planning was carried out over a public server, and that an unauthorized person (a reporter!) was inadvertently cc'd. That a CIA member's identity was revealed. My god. Can it possibly get any more ridiculous? I mean, this is national security we're talking about, from the same folks who screamed about Hilary Clinton's e-mails.

Anyways, it gives me my topic for my e-mails to congress tonight. 

Let's end on a laugh, shall we?