In the garden I was playing the tart

Before I went to sleep last night, I noticed a disaster waiting to happen on my nightstand. I had a tall glass of juice on it's surface and in front of it, resting in the open drawer, was my cell phone charging up. I realized that with one bump of the glass my phone would be submerged in a lake of sticky juice and would consequently be of no use to me anymore. So I moved the phone out of the way in the rear corner of my nightstand.

When I awoke this morning, I grabbed my phone and took the charger out. I put the phone in the nightstand's drawer and then, right on cue, I knocked the tall glass of juice into the drawer. I quickly pulled my phone out and proceeded to dry it off with the only thing that was available: a pair of boxers. I then spent the next several minutes cleaning out the draw and wiping down its contents. What a way to wake up.

My phone was in critical condition for the first half of the day. The LCD was scrambled beyond all recognition. I was able to call out, only I couldn't see what number I was calling. I resigned myself to the fact that I was going to have to get a new phone, but put it off with the hope that the phone would somehow heal itself. And you know what? It did. The LCD is back to it's old form and all seems well. I've had this phone for a few years now and I'm surprised it's taken this long for something like this to happen to it.

Speaking of resurrection, the other day I watered my aloe plant, the one that Spira gave my mother years ago and was passed on to me, and the following day the plant looked like it was dead. I grabbed one of the stems and it came out of the pot with no effort. The soil was as soggy as a Seattle afternoon. I had over watered the plant, apparently. I gently pulled all the other stems with the same effect. With sadness, I plucked out most of the plant and tossed it outside into my garden. I left a piece in the pot with the faint hope that it would be revived. I checked on the plant today and that piece has taken root. It is firmly connected to the soil and I'm hoping it will remain healthy.

I took Spira's advice and went to TJ Max to look for pillows. I had gone to Bed, Bath, and Beyond but their pillows were to expensive, the cheapest at thirty dollars. At the Max today, I bought two fluffy pillows for ten dollars each. Good call, Spira. My bed is coming along. Next, I'm thinking of getting a nice mattress pad for it.

Kreg came by the other night and seemed a bit closer to accepting our offer of moving in when Bob TV makes his exit. Right now he's living in the hinterlands of the Cape and, in my opinion, he needs a change of scenery, whether it be here or somewhere else. We spent part of the night going over some 4 track songs of mine that he's in the process of converting to cd. Hopefully soon I'll be playing it in my car and giving away copies to people.
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After work on Friday, I was driving home and spotted Spira walking towards me. I recognized her just in time and pulled over to talk to her. She jumped in the car and told me she just come from my house. Her intention was to pick a Netflix film that was erroneously sent to my address. When she saw that I wasn't home yet, she walked back to her house, hoping to intercept me on my way home.

I drove her back to my house and we decided to walk to Deli -icious on College ave for dinner. They had just added a Cuban sandwich to their menu and we both ordered one. It was a transcendent experience. After the meal, we hurriedly walked back to my house in the rain. When we returned, I told her I was going to stay in and hit the sack early. My day at work had been taxing and all I wanted to do was take a shower, do a little reading, and go to sleep.

So, I drove her home. But before I did, she checked the hidden pocket in the front of her shorts for her key and it wasn't there. She explained to me that she had put her cell phone and apartment key in her mailbox and then locked it. She had then placed her mailbox key in her shorts and then walked to my house. Without this key, she wouldn't be able to get into her apartment.

I drove her back to her apartment and we both crossed our fingers that the building manager would be there to let her in . He wasn't. So walked back to my car and she said there was nothing for it but for us to retrace her steps all the way back to my house, scouring the ground for her missing key. About three blocks into the search, I had had it. I was already exhausted from work and the prospect of a two to three mile walk to my house was more than I could bear. I told her I'd go back to my car and double check it, and if the key wasn't there, I'd go back to my place and search there.

On the way to my car, I made a detour to the inner courtyard of Spira's apartment complex, hoping to come across someone who'd have the number of the building manager. Almost immediately, someone popped out of the building and was kind enough to give me the number. I went to my car and searched for the key. It wasn't there. I then went and picked up Spira on the roadside and told her to call the building manager. She placed the call, but of course he didn't pick up. On his voice mail, he had left a number to call in the event of an emergency. This wasn't quite an emergency, but if I didn't get some down time shortly, there would be one.

Spira called the number and spoke to an operator who told her she'd call the building manager. We waited and waited for a call back. It was getting late and pretty soon it would be past my bed time. I tried to remain patient, but it was difficult. At one point, I suggested to Spira that she wait for the call at Luke Warm's house so I could go to sleep. She didn't take to well to that, but in the end it didn't matter because the call came through from the building manager not long after. I drove her back to her place and asked her if she'd tell me if it turned out the key was on her person the entire time. She gave it a little thought and told me that she would. I dropped her off and went home to bed.

The following day at work, she called me. She told me that the key was indeed on her person. Somehow it had fallen out of her pocket and ended up in another section of her shorts. The next time anyone loses their keys in my presence, I'm going to demand they take off all their clothes and inspect them before they begin searching elsewhere. And hopefully it will be an attractive woman who loses her keys.