My, don't you get a lot done when there's no teenager in the house needing to be fed and clothed and entertained and nagged and lectured. The day Kitty left for a trip down home Himself and I wandered aimlessly around the apartment for hours.
Couldn't figure out why.
Turned out nothing needed to be put away, no laundry needed to be done, no meals needed to be prepared, no shopping needed to be undertaken, no life lessons needed to be taught.
Nothing.
It took me one day to find stuff to do. There being a bit of a backlog.
Saturday was a bit of a washout what with it pouring rain all friggin' day. But at least we had the house warming/ shivering. As a result of the rain, however, most of the people left the housewarming early and it was up to us to keep the host company while he got drunk and turned his shed stereo up to eleven to welcome himself to the neighbourhood. Then we walked home. Down the dark bendy road (you'd swear we lived in the country, but we live in Armdale, which is very shady and treelined) past the house where the Red Chair Man lives.
Four tipsy adults and the urban myth of the Red Chair Man = silly time had by all.
Red Chair Man sits in a red chair in his yard all day smoking cigarettes and drinking tea. The chair is placed in the centre of his driveway which is a little odd. However, what is worrysome is the bag hanging from the tree on his lawn. The bag is an oblong, grey sac, that bulges.
It could be an alien breeding pod.
It could contain the skulls of his victims (Canada is currently living through the horrific trial of Willie Pickton, accused serial killer of down and out women in Vancouver, so the mind jumps to these conclusions currently).
It could be full of rotten fruit.
It could be his dirty laundry.
Whatever it is, what is it doing in the tree?
Lyse announced herself petrified of Red Chair Man and the contents of his bag. Lyse doesn't drink, I'd like to point out by the way.
Himself and Craig decided to open the bag and see for themselves.
It being one am and Saturday to boot.
Himself and Craig like to drink of course.
Off they 'tiptoed' across RCM's lawn. They neglected to notice that RCM was standing in his front room looking at them, so when he turned on his outside light to get a closer look at the intruders, they fell over themselves in shock and lay rabbit-in-headlights for a bit, trying to decide whether they'd make it to the bag before he murdered.
That's what they told me anyway. After they ran down the hill and round the corner.
Lyse and I were bent into each other laughing under the trees on the other side of the road.
Next day, I had to walk up the hill BY MYSELF to collect the car. Red Chair Man was sitting in the red chair in his driveway, smoking a cigarette and drinking a cup of tea. Rather than the scary looking older man I was imagining, he's about Himself's age, with nothing going on apart from a mullet. A slightly seedy looking blonde was sunbathing on the lawn UNDER THE OBLONG BAG.
They both looked at me as I scurried by.
I don't know what to think.
They looked normal enough.
It's the three word name that gives it away of course. Red. Chair. Man.
Anyways, when I got to Lyse's house, she had a load of seeds for me, so instead of having to go to the garden centre we got straight to it, planted our garden finally and hopefully, the horse manure I put in a month ago will do the trick.
We have:
Lettuce
Peas
Beans
Radishes
Tomatoes
Chives
Parsnips
Beets
Squash, summer and winter
Sage
Oregano
Thyme
Basil
Echinecea
Dill
and Sunflowers and Nasturtiums.
Just gotta get some carrots and some garlic and we're set.
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