Fresh Fruit Tart and Mowing the Lawn

Would you like a piece of this frightfully fruity fresh fruit tart? Bet you would.
Full of vitamins and antioxidants, it's just soooo good for you. Something tells me it will be gone in minutes.

Temperatures have been all the way up to 92 degrees. That's Fahrenheit, not centigrade, in case you are alarmed that we may not survive such ridiculously high temperatures. But, it's still definitely hot, even in Fahrenheit.

Seems just about everybody is cutting their grass. That happens in the suburbs. One person gets the lawn mower out, and the next thing other neighbours are out zooming around manicuring their lawns as well. The grass is always greener on the other side, isn't it? So, we all need to keep our grass trimmed, fertilized and really, really green!

Five things to do instead of cutting the grass:

1. Go back to bed and take a nice long nap. Maybe you'll dream about cutting the grass.

2. Peek outside at the neighbours who are mowing their lawns. Pretend they are really mowing your lawn.

3. Check to see if your lawn mower needs fuel. You never know, maybe there isn't any gas left. Great excuse for not mowing the lawn!

4. Check the weather forecast. Gosh, those huge rain showers out in California could be here in the east coast really soon.

5. Have a slice of this frightfully fruity frest fruit tart. Yum. Yum.

Which would you prefer to do? Mow the lawn or partake of this delicious tart?

What Mirage and What is Surreal?

It's been ever so hot and humid here in the suburbs. Sweat drips and drips and ice cream melts on the driveway. Even the planes seem to have stopped flying. Now, that is almost surreal. We're near a major airport and we hear airplanes taking off on a regular basis. I haven't heard any airplane today at all. Where are they all?!

Perhaps the heat is making me hard of hearing, as well as making me slide across the room!

I was up at the local shopping center earlier today, trying to look tall, slim and tanned as I pretended that the heat didn't bother me one bit. There, on display outside of one of the stores, were scarecrows. At first I thought it was a mirage. Yep, guess it's time to get ready for Halloween? It's still the month of August. Don't you think it's a teeny wee bit early to have Halloween stuffy stuff in the shops?




Halloween in August? Soon there will be Christmas stuff in the shops!

End of a Bush, a Mailbox and a Road Sign

Life here in the suburbs has been just too exciting for words. The other night I heard a strange noise. Burglar? Surely not. Not here, where nothing ever happens. I wasn't too concerned about an intruder as the noise was somewhere outside. Next day, first thing in the morning, lo and behold I noticed something really odd about the bush out front and the mailbox. There was no mailbox! And the bush had been damaged quite badly. There were tire marks on the front lawn and, upon closer scrutiny, I spied the remains of the mailbox scattered on our next door neighbour's yard. Not only that, the road sign out front was lying flat on its back. Golleee. Am I a Sherlock Holmes, or what?



Unfortunately, I hadn't brushed my teeth, nor washed, nor basically performed any ablution. At least I did have on clothes and not just night attire! Just then a neighbour drove by in his car and stopped.

"Hi! Good morning!!" Yikes! I can't stand people who are cheery first thing in the morning.
"Hi." I managed a plaintive smile along with the plaintive 'hi'.
"What happened here?"
I backed away, hand covering my mouth. I really couldn't be bothered answering, especially since I hadn't brushed my teeth.
"Have a nice day!" he yelled with a great big wave as he drove away.
Just as I was about to go back inside another neighbour miraculously appeared. Fortunately, it was just his head that appeared. You see, he had opened his window and was peering out it of it. "I heard a noise last night. I sure did. Didn't I?"

I assumed he was talking to his wife. Of course, maybe he was talking to himself. Strange things can happen in the suburbs.

Anyone else want to see me in this state of disarray?! I waved as merrily as I could to the neighbour hanging out of his window and decided I better call the police. After all, they'd want to investigate the squashing of the road sign. Thinking that the police would take for ever to turn up, I decided to make myself a coffee. Oops. I should have spent the time getting cleaned up. In just two minutes the police arrived and there was I outside again, looking as if I had been dragged through a bush. No pun intended.

All of this before seven a.m. And we never have found out who lost control of his or her car and smashed the bush, the mailbox and the road sign.

Now, where's the best place to buy a new mailbox? And how easy will it be to install? Hmmm.

Out of Business Stores

All photos and written works copyrighted sstaas. All rights reserved.

These long summer days here in the suburbs are adorned with butterflies and bonnie flowers. Even the weeds look nice and welcoming.

In the local village, however, people sip on their coffees and teas and bemoan the number of stores closed, gone out of business. They saunter about in sandals and cropped trousers, their shiny toenails flirting with the hot sidewalks.

"Not another store with a 'for rent' sign!"



"What about the lampshade store? Where did it go? I wanted to buy a new lampshade."

"Let's start at one end of the street and start counting. I think last week I counted nine. Nine stores gone out of business. I've never known this to happen before, never. Not in my whole life."

"Oh my. Where's the spray tan place? I swear it was here two weeks ago. What about my coupon? Do you think I can still use it?"

"They say that the parking meters are free on Saturdays. Maybe that will bring more people."

Some of the wealthiest people in the nation live in and around the village, but I guess they're not shopping here.

But, all is not lost. New ventures are sprouting forth, new ideas are floruishing, just like the flowers on the deck, and new enterprises are on the horizon. Evolution in progress.

The future could well be as superb as a butterfly.

Better grasp it before it flies away.

Are there stores going out of business where you live?

Mr Whippy, Hot Dogs and Ice Cream

All photos and written works are copyrighted sstaas. All rights reserved.

I would love a nice yummy ice cream just now. It's hot and humid here in the suburbs. Not only that, this morning I mowed the grass out back, way out back next to the woods. I usually charge full steam ahead, stomping my feet as I go, making as much noise as possible, that way, any snakes lurking about will take off. I still haven't seen any this year as yet though. That's a nice suprise. Then, this afternoon, I decided to paint one of the bathrooms. All the bending, stretching, and cursing each time I splashed paint on the floor has made me really ready for something cold. But, how many calories are there in an ice cream?!



It's still nice to look at Mr. Whippy's ice cream and my polaroid manipulation of the Hot Dogs and Ice Cream sign. I took the Mr. Whippy photo in Edinburgh, on one of many trips back home. The Hot Dogs and Ice cream I made in South Carolina.

Gazing at these photos is a lovely break from all this yard work and decorating. Now I have to go give the bathroom a second coat of paint. And unless it rains I'll have to water the garden. Now that the bathroom is looking nice, I think the hall could do with a coat of paint. This is never-ending! And in a day or two I'll need to cut the grass out front. The bushes need to be trimmed as well.

So much activity here in the suburbs. It's exhausting. Maybe a teeny tiny ice cream topped with some nice red wine is in order? Then I'll imagine I'm sitting on the beach underneath the Hot Dogs and Ice Cream sign enjoying a Mr. Whippy ice cream cone. Sure, why not?!

How do you like to spend a hot summer day?

Bird Bath and Soliciting

Life is good in the land of the suburbs.

The plants are growing nicely, and the colours are vibrant. So far the deer haven't appeared to gobble up the hosta. So far the bunny rabbits have not gobbled up the impatiens. There's a lot more sun at the side of the house where we had the trees removed last year. Means the tomatoes should be happy campers. And, most importantly of all, so far the black snakes haven't appeared. Well, I personally haven't seen any. Guess they could be lurking around somewhere! They're harmless, but I still don't like them.



I love my bird bath! Every day my 'pet bird' flies by and takes a bath. He usually hangs out in the crabapple tree out front, or on the bushes. It's difficult, if not impossible, to take a photo of him when he's having his bath. I think he might be shy! Next to the bird bath is the lavender. He's doing exceptionally well this year, and has even created himself a baby.

I happened to see someone walk up the pathway to our front door, and immediately thought he could be one of those odd people who insist on trying to persuade you to attend their church. Things like that happen in the suburbs. But, instead all he did was hang an ad. for a local pizza place on the door knob. Such excitement! If I lived in New York, I would miss out on these suburban exquisite slices of life.

But, there's one problem with the pizza people, and all the other people who come by and leave ads. or flyers or free newspapers. What they leave behind are dead giveaways that you're out of town. You're really dependent on a kind neighbour picking them up and disposing of them. I'd just as soon have no solicitors wandering around my neighbourhood. If I want to attend a church, I will. I don't need to be persuaded. If I want to purchase a particular brand of pizza, I will. And, if I want a newspaper, well, I already subscribe to one.

What do you think of soliciting?

Garden Society Communication

Who says life in the suburbs is boring?! Yesterday the whole neighbourhood was buzzing with excitement. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, the temperature was around seventy. Flowers were blossoming, grass was being cut, new roofs were being installed. And let's not forget the gardeners who were outside pruning and weeding, admiring their colourful creations. Each person was involved, dedicated to enhancing his or her property.



But, did they notice one another? Hmm. I guess a feeble wave and a loud "Hi!" means communication was also buzzing. And they say New York is a tough city where nobody cares about anybody.

Just wait until the icecream van jingles by. Then there is even more excitement. Sometimes we get two icecream vans. Yes, in the one day. Imagine. They play different tunes as well.

I walk most days throughout the neighbourhood and have 'met' tons of people throughout the years. They always wave and give me a huge, gigantic grin as if we were old friends. I haven't a clue who they are. I just know where they live and I've never had more than a ten second conversation with them. Lots of times, people honk their horn as they drive by. I haven't a clue who they are either. Heck, I can't even see them. And unless I recognize the vehicle there's no way that I can tell who they are.

When I first moved to the United States I used to think that Americans were ever so friendly for they always greeted me exuberantly, unlike the British who tend to take a while to warm up to someone. But, that's as far as the communication seems to go - big waves, huge grins and a loud 'hi'. Granted, since I don't know these people well, that's about all that can be expected. But, why take the trouble to give these big waves and grins and honkings of the car in the first place?

Do you wave and greet people you've never met before?

Artist Painting

All photos and written works copyrighted sstaas. All rights reserved.

I used to think I could learn to paint. At school I was told that I had "very interesting brushstrokes"! Armed with these fine thoughts I finally embarked on learning to paint at a local center for the arts. Whoever commented on my brushstrokes all those years ago must have been searching wildly for something positive to say about my art work. I think it's safe to say that I was about the worst in any of the art classes I took. I kept signing up for more classes, hoping that I'd suddenly discover hidden talents.




Wouldn't it be nice to be as brave as the gentleman in my photo? He stands so proudly, sure of his artwork, not a care in the world.

The hardest part of an art class for me is the blank canvas. It looms in front of you, as if to challenge you into duelling with it. People in the know can transform it into a drawing, a painting, something pleasant to regard. But, not only are you required to deal with the blankness of the canvas, you are also subjected to the stares and glances of others! I hate that. I remember positioning the easel in such a way that nobody could see what I was painting. Clever me, I thought. I carried on my merry way of dabbing here and splashing there, creating a fine mess, but it was fun, in a way. Best part, was that nobody could see my work of art, or so I thought. Oops. Right behind me was this huge mirror. Anybody looking at the mirror could see what I was painting!

I decided to take up photography after all these lame attempts at learning to draw or paint. I photograph things that I'd love to be able to draw or paint.

Are you an artist? Do you paint?

The Big Box

Time for Spring cleaning. What a big box! And what's in it? Lots of stuff. Belts, papers, stuffed animals, drawings,etc. Want to see more? Bet you just have this huge, overpowering desire to rummage to the bottom of the box! I know someone who did.

It's time to toss things out, yet maybe keep a few items. But we get stuck, mesmerized by the sheer variety of objects. Memorabilia from elementary school, karate classes. old photos, old e mails, all keep us fascinated as we gaze on days long gone when we were all so much younger.

"Aw. There's your first birthday card."
"You kept it all those years?"
"I also kept the shawl someone knitted for you when you were born."
"Look at the pencil case!"
"You were six years old when I bought you it."
"What's inside? Hmm. A photo."
"Let's make three piles. One for things you really, really, really want to keep. Another for things you don't care about at all, and a third pile for objects you sort of want to keep but aren't too sure."

De-cluttering is part of Feng Shui. So they say. And if you decorate your house in the Feng Shui style harmony and well-being will be yours. You might even become rich, or fall in love, if you arrange your house in the Feng Shui way. But, maybe that's taking Spring cleaning a bit too far. I'll be happy just dusting away cobwebs
and gazing on memorabilia.

Back Yard Workmen

We had workmen bulldoze their way around our back yard. Why? Because they were replacing the sewer lines all along our street. We didn't even know there were sewer lines in our yard. Anyhow, they dug a huge ten feet hole in order to find the sewer line. Very interesting to watch, but it was with trepidation that my gaze followed the workman who descended into the deep hole.

They very kindly also replaced some small steps we had built, and which they charged through with their bulldozer. Also managed to acquire several large slabs that were unearthed and which I've now added to a small wall I've been building in the garden.

The workmen are supposed to come back with topsoil and grass seed at some future date. I wonder if they'll remember to return?!

Apparently access to the sewer lines is property of the township where we live. I never knew that. I always assumed that our property was ours. I had no choice but to allow all these burly workmen access to our property which they duly dug up and made a fine mess of.

At least they didn't request the use of my bathrooms!

Have you ever had workmen come in and dig up your yard?

Play Golf?

We sometimes travel to Weston, a quiet suburban area close to Fort Lauderdale. It's an ideal spot to escape the snow and ice. Don't say that to the locals, however, for they complain any time the temperature goes below seventy degrees Fahrenheit! There are indeed cool days in Florida, and it can get quite windy in the winter. However, if you're a keen golfer, you'll find yourself able to play even in January and February.



Not that I play golf. I have tried. I actually once firmly believed that golf would be in my genes, that I'd be programmed to be a really good player. I watched Lucille Ball take a lesson once. Her problem was that she didn't keep her head down. My problem was that I ripped out half the golf course each time I hit the ball. That wouldn't have been too bad if the ball had actually moved! Well, it did a little, maybe half an inch.

Do you play golf? Where?

Toyota Recall

All photos and written works are copyrighted sstaas. All rights reserved.

In the suburbs where I live I never get a chance to speak in Spanish. Even the few native speakers of Spanish that live around here prefer to converse in English. There's a tendency for people to want to blend in, to be accepted, maybe that's why. So, on our annual visit to Southern Florida, I love to listen to people speak in Spanish. Here, even in the suburbs, you hear Spanish everywhere. You can converse with native speakers from Cuba, Colombia, Venezuela, Costa Rica, from basically just about any Latin American country. Muy bien!



I took my car to the local dealer at Weston to find out if it were on the recall list. Why didn't I just wait until I got back home?! Anyhow, I arrived at noon, hoping to hear, "No, senora. You're car is NOT on the recall list." After a lot of clicking of keys, nodding of heads and startled exclamations, it was figured out that maybe, perhaps, quite possibly, my car was indeed on the recall list. "Don't worry. We'll take care of you, senora."




Now, the guy who said this, was kind of cute, in that he had great big eyes, lovely thick black hair, and spoke all the time with an endearing smile. When he talked of pedals and carpets, he smiled. He even smiled when he said it'd only take two hours to make the adjustments to my car. "Step inside, senora, where it's cooler for you. Help yourself to some water." He waved me away and took my car into the bowels of the service station where the mechanics awaited.




Inside I go. After half an hour I was fed up. Outside I go.
"Que pasa, senora?"
"Nothing. How much longer will it be before my car's ready?"
"Not long. Maybe an hour or so." He was still smiling.
This time I sat outside, on a nice wooden bench.
"You here for the recall?" It was an elderly woman with dyed red hair talking to me.
"So am I. It's a disgrace. Been here three hours, and they still haven't finished!" This was a short, chubby man talking to me, his hands wiping perspiration from his forehead.
"Bloody hell. What's the holdup?" That was me talking, pleased to get a chance to speak in Spanish.
"They say it's the computer. They need to re-programme the computer in my car, but the main computer isn't working."
"I've been here almost four hours." This time it was a young, slim woman talking. "And I need to get home soon for my kids."



We became firmly fondly friends as the minutes transpired into hours. My two hour wait became a three hour one, then a four hour one, then a four hour and 45 minute one. At least I got to speak in Spanish. That was good. I found out all sorts of details about their lives. The older woman had grandchildren and was absolutely petrified to drive her car in case the accelerator got stuck. She was scared of other people on the roads driving the same type of car in case their accelerator got stuck. The younger one was trying to give up smoking as she was worried about wrinkles around her mouth. The short, chubby man hated Chavez and compared him to Castro.

We were all in the same boat, frustrated and wanting to get the hell out of there as soon as possible. We had a good old moan and groan, and then, when our cars were finally ready, we let out a huge yell. Yeah!! The smiling guy had already left for the day. What a shame he missed our grinning faces smiling from ear to ear.

Have you ever had a vehicle or anything else that's been recalled?

Light-up Night and the Free Cookies

Last night I went to Light Up Night in the local village, located just a ten minute drive from my house. The festive season has begun, complete with Santa Claus, Christmas trees, colorful lights, hot chocolate, and cookies galore. There were even horse-drawn carriage rides. (I wonder if the horses enjoyed the rides as much as the people did?!) They plodded around the village, up and down and round about, pulling the carriages behind them. Onboard, kids were bundled into blankets and parents huddled together in the frigid temperatures. I've never understood why people feel the need to be in a horse-drawn carriage. Don't we have two legs that we can use? Therefore, there's no need to disturb the poor horses. We can quite simply walk about on our own.

The stores stayed open late and offered everyone free wine and cookies. The library also offered cookies. The local hair salon had free cookies. Everywhere we went there were free cookies! What is it about Christmas that makes people bake like crazy? There were gingerbread cookies, star cookies, long skinny cookies, short and fat cookies, iced cookies, plain cookies. There weren't any half-eaten cookies, however. No. All gobbled up. I stashed some to bring home with me. I think I counted seven altogether. Not bad for a day's work.