Morning all. I am moving a little slowly today. We repainted the bedroom this weekend and my shoulders and thighs are feeling the efforts this morning. There were a lot of squats to reach the lower wall and lots of shoulder movements with the roller. I know the Karate Kid had wax on and wax off but I wonder if any workout instructors have paint the wall workouts. Could be the next big craze, home improvement and workouts combined – Tone those muscles while you build that equity. Yeah probably why I don’t pitch reality shows to television networks. So let’s do a writing prompt instead.
Not sure where this is going but it feels like something I could play around with.
Monday, February 8th: It was three am.
It was three am. In the next yard something shifted about in the underbrush. He froze foot paused in midair. His eyes moved to the gently vibrating leaves while the rest of him remained motionless. A slender deer stepped through the gap in the hedges and after a cursory look around ambled across the yard.
‘Right to Anderson’s fruit trees,’ He thought. Harold thought about making some sort of noise to startle the deer away from his neighbor’s fruit trees but he didn’t want to call attention to his presence.
He knew there would be some form of disturbance as Anderson exploded in impotent rage at his stripped down trees, but Harold couldn’t really bring himself to care. He wasn’t at war with his ill-tempered neighbor, but they weren’t exactly on the best of terms at the moment.
‘Let Bambi dine,’ he decided. He let his foot descent as he continued across his own yards and moved to the gazebo on the back of the property.
The night air was warm, but not uncomfortably so. The day light sun made the temperatures rise, but night softened the air so that even if the thermometer wasn’t all that different it somehow felt more bearable.
All around him were the scents of green growing things. Somehow without the presence too, they were softened. They were whispers instead of shouts. Perhaps like him they were trying not to draw attention to themselves. His feet made soft whispering sounds in the grass. The blades felt slightly dry and a little crisp. It was still too yearly in the summer for them to have the crisp brown of hay, but he could tell the grass was starting to whither
He knew some of his neighbors watered their grass in the evenings, but here there was not a lot of fire hazard and he felt that it wasn’t really worth the water to make sure his lawn stayed green all summer. He watered enough so that he didn’t become a hazard and then concentrated his watering on plants that benefitted him directly, mostly the vegetables. As Harald walked towards the gazebo he stole a glance at his own garden. Because of the buffet of fruit trees his neighbor stablished he didn’t get as many visitors. Still he wrapped the outside of his beds in chicken wire when he wasn’t working in it and between that and the soapy water he sprayed on the plants it seemed to keep everything other than him from consuming the produce he grew.
It was also the source of the current bad feelings between him and Anderson. While his neighbor has most of his plants stripped down to bares stalks and his trees nightly attacked, very little molested Harold’s garden beds and Anderson seemed to have some belief that Harold was responsible for the attacks, or at least encouraging them due to his own defenses. It was mostly envy than actual belief, but it didn’t make him any easier to deal with. Harold shrugged it off. Being seen outside when another nightly foray was made on the trees wouldn’t help the situation so Harold hastened his steps, crossing the open expanse of yard quickly so he wouldn’t be seen.
Ten til Midnight 