Kookamongaville's cast of characters are beginning to emerge

Sometimes it takes a little bit of sunshine to get people out of their houses and start to walk amongst us. This includes all my crazy neighbors who have started to emerge. First the dog and I walked down the Pajama Mans street because we haven't been there in quite some time. It was time to check on him, we were both wondering if he had received any new pajamas or if he was still rockin' his old ones. We were disappointed to see he wasn't wandering the streets but his chair was out, garage door open and he flag was up. We will have to try again tomorrow.
On the up side I said good morning to the Russian Lady, she was out for her march. She doesn't walk, she marches. Perhaps that's what they do in third world communist countries, you know learn to march before they can walk. I didn't get a good morning back in her heavy Russian accent, just a nod. I think she's scared of the dog. I'm pretty sure she's Russian, she sounds like it to me. But I have learned from Dancing With The Stars that Ukrainians sound the same. So who know where she learned to march. I just can't wait to get poolside when she's there with all her kin to listen to them ishkabibble.
So the neighborhood promises to be a continuing source of amusement for my blog now that we are almost sure it isn't going to snow anymore. Kookamonga is on the loose.

A head clearing, light hearted stroll

First of all somebody tell this dog that our early morning walks are suppose to be head clearing, light hearted strolls. Yesterday she took off after another bunny, whereby yanking my arm almost out of it's socket yet again. This time I wasn't able to hold on and the dog became perplexed. Maybe it was the words coming out of my mouth so early in the morning or she really loves me and would rather stay with me then kill. It's hard to say but she didn't make me chase her through the neighborhood and for that I'm grateful. I do fear though, the next bunny we encounter may be when she finally rips off my arm.
And I thought my neighbors and I had an unspoken early morning, dog walking schedule, apparently not. The 9:30 walker was right in front of my house at my scheduled time of 7:30 and all hell broke loose. The dog has her favorites in the development, like her boyfriend next door. He escapes regularly to visit her and pee on our bushes. I think it's a sign of affection when he hikes his leg up and leaves her something to remember him by.
But he was part of the mayhem outside my door this morning. An unscheduled dog walker with one of my dogs arch rivals, in front of my house and an escapee trying to impress her by boldly jumping up the steps to wiz on my flower pots. She didn't know what to do, caught between emotions and all. On one paw she had to bark to defend her territory, she couldn't show weakness but I could tell she really wanted to take a whiff of those flower pots.
This is all happening and I'm barely awake. We waited on the steps for the unscheduled one to pass by and the barking from both sides ended. Then we herded Romeo back to his yard, secured him inside his fence and continued what we started, a head clearing, light hearted stroll.

Welcome to Kookamongaville, I will be your Captain

The neighbors are practically writing this blog for me. These guys moved in during the winter or they've been here a couple years, not sure. But they bought a boat this spring. It isn't uncommon to see a boat in a neighbors driveway, it's a lake community. What is uncommon is to see the neighbors and their friends sitting in the boat drinking beer.
For the past three weekends the neighbors have had their friends come over, we know this because of the extra cars parked on the street, and party like it's 1999. In the boat while it remains in their driveway. I don't care what anybody says, that's going to draw some attention, specifically mine.
"I have to get a picture of these guys."
And then I heard a collective,
"NO!"
"But................"
"NO!"
"You don't see this sort of behavior often, it needs to be made fun of, pointed out and on my blog."
"They're drinking and they out number us, mom put the camera away." 
They had a good argument, so I took a picture of it empty on a Monday morning and decided to paint the rest of the picture myself.
That is a Pontoon boat, which is also know as a party boat. People, most people, float out to the middle lake and party. I've never seen one of them driving very fast, they usually just meander to a spot, drop anchor and pop open a few cold ones. Swim a little, eat some snacks and pop open a few cold ones. I'm pretty sure when you buy one of these Pontoons they come stocked with beer.
I'm not sure where my neighbors heads are going with this new boat/driveway concept but you can be sure I will be keeping an eye on the situation as it unfolds. I am the Captain of Kookamongaville after all.

The home of the strange and the land of the weird

There are times when I need to leave the safe confines of my neighborhood to find inspiration for a blog post. WalMart. But not in the last couple weeks. Seven kinds of crazy have been wandering around in bathrobes, mailboxes have been flying through the air and now people are walking canoes down the street. I love my neighborhood and all the kookamongas that live here.

We live in a lake community so it isn't really, really weird to see people taking a canoe for a walk it's just that they are going in the opposite direction of the shore. I'm sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for this type of behavior and I've seen stranger things walk down my side of the street, but who wouldn't take a picture of this?

And then make fun of it?

I'm treading very carefully here because I understand how Karma works

Apparently it's perfectly acceptable to take an early morning walk on Clipper Cove in your pajamas, robe and a light jacket. I might be avoiding that street on future walks. Let me tell you why.

1. The elderly man in his pajamas with his robe tie-around dragging on the ground and knit hat haphazardly a skewed on top of his head was a bit unsettling.
B. The dog looked back at me and I know she was thinking about all the time we could save in the morning if I would just stop looking for a pair of jeans and go out in my PJ's and a light jacket.

As we passed each other he said good morning and I the same. I processed the vision for about 50 feet then looked back and he was gone. I'm treading very carefully here because I understand how Karma works. So instead of being faced with the situation again I'm going to ignore and avoid. And focus my attention on the mailbox mayhem.
Two days after I found evidence of my mailbox being assaulted (see mailbox mayhem link) my neighbors was too and I have pictures. You don't take out a mailbox on my street and not get your picture taken. Especially when you give me 3 chances to get my camera. He kept driving back to the scene of the crime. Once to get his mirror and then to pick up the mail that had burst out of the mailbox, shove it back in the box and try to place the mailbox back on its perch. So that's 2 mailboxes in one week. I have things to do and can't be taken pictures of evil-doers. Keep your eyes on the road when you're in my neighborhood. We have children playing, people walking dogs and old men wandering around in their pajamas for God's sake.

I think she's full of remorse

Just look at that face. Is that the face of a killer? I think not. Buckeye just hasn't been the same since The Incident. I had her outside with me for the afternoon while I did, effing yard work. I really hate raking leaves, they're not done falling and I'll be out there again, it's an endless chore, done year after year. But the rest of the neighbors were doing it so I thought I'd better put forth the effort. Trust me, I didn't over do it, but my back still hurts. I need a nap and vodka.


I thought it would be a good idea to put on Buckeye's peace and love bandanna while we were out. It's kind of her hippy one, with peace signs and hearts. Just in case any other squirrels were out there watching her. They have to know one of their own is gone but I'm certain they don't suspect her. It all happened so fast and most of the violence was behind the bushes, in the front yard. All the squirrels hang out in our back yard. I wanted her to look harmless, I'm looking out for her reputation. I don't want her to have a bad rep in the neighborhood. And I have to say she played her part well. Sniffed around, dug a few holes and lounged around like the queen of the neighborhood. I think we can safely say the "Incident" is behind us.

Muddy Paw Mania

I had to see this coming right?

New couches + gobs and gobs of melted snow = muddy paw mania

The dog has had a bath 5 days in a row and number six is about to happen as soon as she's done barking at the neighbors. The water's already filling up in the tub and Boy #3 is on stand-by. He carries her in with her muddy paws sticking straight out. Did I mention she hates water?
This a picture of her trying to look cute and innocent but we know she could stay out of the mud if she'd just focus. It's really not necessary to take off barking at every person, dog walker, skate-boarder, bike-rider, jogger and Jehovah Witness that .......... well maybe them, that walks by the house.
So Buckeye gets to stay outside longer than usual to terrorize the neighborhood but with a huge price to pay, dragged into the tub night after night. This is a dog that when she hears the tub water running, she hides. She refuses to put all four paws down in the water at the same time, one must always be out of the water.

I must break from my post to go catch the dog.

Buckeye tried to make a run for the hills, she pulled her lead out of the mushy, muddy ground.
"She's loose!"
"Huh?"
"She pulled her lead out and is headed for the street!"
"The dog?" Who else does he think we're keeping on a lead?
By this time I had my boots on the wrong feet and was out the door. I knew the easiest way to get her was to open the car door and ask her if she wanted to go on a car ride, but hmmmmm..... the mud. I opted for the step on the lead trick while the husband lured her in with biscuits, she's a biscuit whore.

All is well for now, she's in her little house pouting. She'll come out when she's hungry or dear God has to go out again.

The son of a bitch is running his chain saw now

Under misguided assumption, the husband and I continue to try to sleep in on Sunday mornings, because someone, somewhere once told us, "Sunday is a day of rest." I think it was God.
Our neighbor with the nice yard, but bags under his eyes, wakes us up every weekend. This morning, to the lovely sound of a chain saw. You have to wonder with the list of things he probably had written down on his "Yard work I want to get done today" list, why is chain sawing on the top of it?
"It's 10 o'clock in the morning, shouldn't he be at church or something?"
You could tell the dog was pissed too, she finally found a comfortable spot after looking for it all night. It was a particularly restless night for all three of us. And we were content to sleep away the bright sunny day. The husbands restless leg syndrome was in full swing last night, the kids were out late and I drank too much ice tea earlier in the evening. Some kind of critter was roaming around the backyard, being the dog of the house, Buckeye has to check out every sound and bark at it, this includes children coming home later than they should. They were totally busted.
The day didn't turn out to be a total loss, the neighbor with the nice yard and bags under his eyes finished his "Yard work I want to get done today" list, is sitting right now in said yard to enjoy it and a thunderstorm is rolling in.
I think it's God's way of saying, "Dude, let thy neighbors rest."

Damn That Rock in my Purse

Apparently the junk in my purse is worth a Citronella Reed Diffuser Kit. I'll never take those silly assed games at Bridal Showers lightly again. I tied for third place in the Bridal Shower Purse Game or more commonly known as Crap You Carry Needlessly Around 24/7 in Your Purse Game. Hand Sanitizer and Band Aids are worth 7 points each. I got 10 points for a Q-tip and 12 points for my library card. Huh. Those little sewing kits that no one ever uses but can never, ever be disgarded - 15 points. I think what put me in my tie for third was the rock, it was worth 20 points. Yes, I have a rock in my purse, I need that extra weight to make me miserable or it's a good luck rock, can't remember.
Now I have a Citronella Reed Diffuser Kit to ward off mosquito's. Which is awesome except for the fact that I have no patio furniture to go with it. You know what this means don't you? We're going to have to turn into one of those families that spends time together outside instead of in front of the TV. I'll probably have to start drinking wine and entertaining the neighbors instead of drinking vodka and orange juice in front of the computer. If we're going to spend more time outside there will be more yard work, I might even have to start a garden. Damn that rock in my purse. If only I would have chosen the gift wrapped door prize that was square instead of rectangle. I'd have a beautiful Lady Bug Planter right now with no social implications.

Turd Grabbers

During my recent Mrs. Kravitz moment as I watched my neighbors teaching their little boy how to ride a bike, I couldn't help but notice at least five people going by the house walking their dogs. I've been known to stare out my window for long periods of time. It's part of my fat ass problem.
The dog walkers all strolled past at various times and in various shapes and sizes, but all with one thing in common, a filled poop bag. The way they all confidently walked past my house you could tell they were skilled, seasoned dog walkers. They have a certain air about them as they saunter by with a leash in one hand and swinging a bag of poop in the other. For those of you that do not have a dog to walk, let me explain to you how the poop gets in the bag.
It's somewhat of an art form. Since a dog will crap just about anywhere, owners must always be on the ready for turd removal. They take their plastic bag and stick their hand in it. Grab the turds with just that thin layer of plastic between their hand and the doo doo. With a single motion they will swoop those turds into the bag, turning it inside out and tie a knot in the bag, securing the turds and smell neatly in the bag of their choice, continuing merrily on their way in less than a minute.
They are an elite group of turd grabbers, for this is not an easy task. Getting it all in one felt swoop requires skill. Not dropping a single turd requires concentration and patience. So when you see a turd grabber walking down the street, give them a nod of encouragement, they have skills beyond ours, they are good at what they do and they are keeping the community poop free.

Crackle, Whoosh, Thud

I'm hip to the sound a tree makes when it falls. Because the trees in are neighborhood are, for lack of a better word, whimpy. So when I heard the unmistakable sound of crackle, whoosh, thud, my first thought was, "Oh please let it be my neighbors tree."
Very insensitive of me, but all the neighbors were saying that to themselves. The thought of spending, what was turning out to be a very lazy weekend, on the phone with insurance companies, tree removal and contractors didn't appeal to me in the least.
This post can remain somewhat humorous because no one was under the tree. And it wasn't my tree. When I looked out the front door there was a tree strategically place across the street and the neighbors were starting to gather.
"Anyone call 911 yet?"
There were some blank stares and heads shaking no.
"I'll do it." I'm a take charge kind of person and I've called 911 more times then I've cared too.
I told the 911 operator my street name and she said, "Fallen tree across street and no one hurt?"
"Yep."
"We're already on it."
I put my sweatshirt on and congregated with the neighbors, some of us hadn't seen each other since last fall, so it was nice to catch up.
A tree across the main road in a development needs to be removed immediately. You know in case anyone has a heart attack or falls into our lake, an ambulance needs to be able to drive through. The first to arrive was one policeman and a chainsaw. Boy #2 informed me later that he was using the chainsaw wrong and it could have kicked back at him. As the policeman cut pieces of the tree off, the neighbors all jumped in to clear the street. It's great to have good neighbors. And I stood their wondering if I had time to get my camera to take a picture for when I blog about this. I didn't want to spoil the moment of neighborhood camaraderie, so I stayed put, didn't want to miss any gossip either.