'Ff'lo (fflo) wrote,

deck; dreck; retrospeck

Nearly done powerwashing. Gaddzz. Big job.

Had a few drop-by visitors today. A family and a single. One of the children in the family was certain I was home, even though my car wasn't here (I'd parked it at Bert's) and I wasn't answering my phone. The single was on a fall foliage digital photography walk, on this almost-hot day in late October.

I love the drop-by or join-in when I'm in back. To be found out back makes it feel as if I hang there some, and truth is I'm not out back so much---not near as much as would qualify as taking advantage of the space. Not this year, anyway. It was a non-yard year, though. The odd numbers, remember? Maybe I didn't say that here. This year I'm floating the theory that maybe I'll be a yard tender in the even-numbered years.

Been thinking about Holly some here and there these past few days, for some reason. Holly the person, not the thermonuclear explosion. It mighta been having my bartender say he knew me from somewhere else, and having it turn out to be he'd worked with her---right at the very end there, and presumably afterwards, which was a little weird. When he figured it out, he asked me whether I used to date her.

But it's not late-model Holly I've been thinking about. Recently I was telling this chick the story of H & I breaking out of the cruise-from-hell's "exclusive port" (tourist gift shop and tawdry faux-exotic consumerism, surrounded by an 8-foot wooden fence, painted turquoise, with only one gap in it that we could find) and walking to that hotel and renting that scooter---escaping the cruise, escaping the passengers, escaping the whole freaked-out mother thing---and tooling around a deserted Freeport on Easter Sunday, trying to remember to stay on the wrong side of the road.

I think I'm going to blame that story, and not, say, somebody's recent mention of a personality disorder, cuz it's a Holly like that Holly on the scooter with me that I've been thinking of.

Even O agreed the other day that that crazy woman could be fun. All that performance stuff. It had its moments.

This one, with all the glorious record noise, is a hokey classic that still makes me smile:

  .mp3 --> "Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You" -- Vikki Carr

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