Green's Hill-Amy Lane's Home - News

Friday, May 13, 2016

This Time, I Had My Camera...

*  I spent part of the day in the dentist office, because that whole "Hey, this is a big part of my filling" moment last night was NOT good. Neither was getting the filling. Neither, I suspect, are the tiny pebbles of amalgam I've been spitting out all day. *sigh* Ouch.

But the dentist office sits across the street from my old grammar school. You read that right-- K-8 grammar school. When I graduated from 8th grade, we joined the other two grammar schools in the district and had a graduation on the football field. Girls in their first formals, boys in their first suits--it was a throwback, you see, to the farming days when that might be a kid's last year in school.

Bullies sucked, the gay kids all joined band and drama for safety, and anyone different, even a little bit, was not treated kindly. But we closed down the town for the homecoming parade, and who does that anymore?

So, yeah. Memories are a mixed bag of fish when you grew up in a small town.  But the view from the dentist office--same dentist who pulled my wisdom teeth when I was 17, btw--sure is pretty.

*  Got home and we went almost immediately to  Squish's choir performance. This picture is from before they actually started singing. I call it "Dance of the Blue Squirrels" for obvious reasons--but as soon as the performance started, they were all well behaved ladies and gentleman.

Yes, it was a parental duty to attend--but it was also a treat.

*  We went to dinner afterwards (Mate and I were starving) and as we sat and ate, I looked out and saw this guy. He was drinking a Starbucks refresher, making a balloon horse-- the kind you put around your waist and ride--and he had few teeth.  And no reason to be there. I mean none. My kids were the only ones in the store. Nobody was watching him. He looked up and smiled when I took the picture and said "Yes, the little girl is right, it's a horse," and carried on. (I was grateful to be reassured--my friend said it looked like anal beads when I texted her the picture, and, well, the horse is better.)

So, there you go. Finally, I have a picture to prove it happened. Next time that Hell's Angel cruises through, I'll try to get a picture of him too.

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