Kaboing kaboing kaboing
The groundhog that hangs out in the vacant lot across from the Café des Bonnes Beans has groundhog babies! I know that groundhogs are usually considered pests, but these are really cute. They were mostly sticking close to the mother but occasionally chasing birds. Well, probably what happened was that the noise of passing traffic made the baby run away into longer grass, and that was what startled the birds, but I like thinking of it the other way.
The vacant land they run around on is a very well-kept lawn with a big stump in it. The stump was once a huge tree, one that we used in Much Ado About Nothing to stage the Hero/Margaret switcheroo (not the veiled wedding, but the “Dude, she’s cheating on you!” scene). The characters (Claudio and Don John, I think) were inside the Anteroom – we used the street door as an exit – and Margaret and Borachio were having a picnic under the big tree in the middle of the lawn all the way across the street with traffic going by. Claudio watched through the giant windows in horror; when he started to storm out the door to confront the couple, Don John grabbed him, pulled him back in, and talked evil sense into him (“Dude, wait till your wedding, then call her a slut and dump her at the altar!”). It was staged pretty effectively, I think!
One of the baby groundhogs is still hiding in the long grass, but one is coming back out. Ooo, now the baby groundhog is trying to find its mother, but when it stands up on its hind legs, it’s only just above the height of the grass. Cute! Now it finds her; now it’s crawling on top of her. She’s unperturbed. She’s still eating whatever she found in the grass.
The giant tree that is now a stump used to stand next to a large and lovely house that I coveted dearly. It had a cool window halfway up the side, probably in a stairwell, and I thought it was awesome. Someone once told me it was a Queen Anne design, but I know nothing of architecture. It burned down many, many years ago, unfortunately. In fact, the house may have been gone by the time Margaret unwittingly screwed up Hero’s love life.
Next to this lot stands Rouge Moving. It’s been for sale since I came back to Flint. I stare at that house almost daily, wanting to look inside it, wanting to buy it. It would be great for me, since all I really want is a home base, and it would be great for FCT, since we could convert the garage into a black box. I thought for a while that I could get a mortgage for above the amount of the house, fold my student loans and other debt into it, and be pretty well set for a while. Then I had an evil boss, realized that adjuncts in Michigan barely make a living wage, and began to question any idea that I’d ever have a house of my own. Now, when I look at it, I feel not desire but some sort of nostalgia.
What shall I covet next? I think that maybe, if I go into it with the understanding that I won’t get it, I won’t feel as bad at the end.
The vacant land they run around on is a very well-kept lawn with a big stump in it. The stump was once a huge tree, one that we used in Much Ado About Nothing to stage the Hero/Margaret switcheroo (not the veiled wedding, but the “Dude, she’s cheating on you!” scene). The characters (Claudio and Don John, I think) were inside the Anteroom – we used the street door as an exit – and Margaret and Borachio were having a picnic under the big tree in the middle of the lawn all the way across the street with traffic going by. Claudio watched through the giant windows in horror; when he started to storm out the door to confront the couple, Don John grabbed him, pulled him back in, and talked evil sense into him (“Dude, wait till your wedding, then call her a slut and dump her at the altar!”). It was staged pretty effectively, I think!
One of the baby groundhogs is still hiding in the long grass, but one is coming back out. Ooo, now the baby groundhog is trying to find its mother, but when it stands up on its hind legs, it’s only just above the height of the grass. Cute! Now it finds her; now it’s crawling on top of her. She’s unperturbed. She’s still eating whatever she found in the grass.
The giant tree that is now a stump used to stand next to a large and lovely house that I coveted dearly. It had a cool window halfway up the side, probably in a stairwell, and I thought it was awesome. Someone once told me it was a Queen Anne design, but I know nothing of architecture. It burned down many, many years ago, unfortunately. In fact, the house may have been gone by the time Margaret unwittingly screwed up Hero’s love life.
Next to this lot stands Rouge Moving. It’s been for sale since I came back to Flint. I stare at that house almost daily, wanting to look inside it, wanting to buy it. It would be great for me, since all I really want is a home base, and it would be great for FCT, since we could convert the garage into a black box. I thought for a while that I could get a mortgage for above the amount of the house, fold my student loans and other debt into it, and be pretty well set for a while. Then I had an evil boss, realized that adjuncts in Michigan barely make a living wage, and began to question any idea that I’d ever have a house of my own. Now, when I look at it, I feel not desire but some sort of nostalgia.
What shall I covet next? I think that maybe, if I go into it with the understanding that I won’t get it, I won’t feel as bad at the end.
posted by Liz at
8:41 PM
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