We live around the corner from a bachelor. He's a helluva nice guy, he's spends at least forty hours a week on yard work, and--bless his heart--the man drinks way too much.
Now you've got to understand, I didn't say "bless his heart" to be rude or condescending. After a swig (or twenty) of Whisky, Jim will freely admit that he drinks far more than he should--and it all started when his two sons were serving in Iraq at the very same time.
Then he'll tell you about all of his "lady friends."
But seriously guys, could you imagine having all of your children fighting in a war simultaneously? I don't know about you, but I'd probably have a cupcake in one hand, a box of Kleenex in the other, and a bottle of red wine in my purse.
In other words, I really wouldn't cope well. God bless any parent who has to deal with that kind of worry.
Fortunately, Jim's sons are safe at home. Unfortunately, Jim hasn't been able to abandon his old coping mechanism--as evidenced by the time he drove his riding lawn mower into a drainage ditch, the time I found him lying on top of his wood pile because "It's a lot more comfy than it looks, you guys," and the time he fell down my basement stairs, smacked his head against the closet door casing, dusted himself off and muttered, "Damn shoelaces..."
Yeah, he was wearing slip-ons. Buy you know, whatev.
On Saturday afternoon, as I walked by his house, Jim cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "I'm decorating for Halloween, Amy. It's that time of year!"
"Great! I can't wait to see how it comes out, Jim! I love Halloween decorations!"
And when I circled the block to make my way home, Jim's decorating efforts were complete:
I know what you're thinking: What in the living hell is that?Welp, I'm not totally sure. But from what I can gather, it's a plywood cutout of a man wearing cargo pants, a sweatshirt, a hat pulled over his face, and a reflective vest--you know, in case he gets the urge to jog after dinner.
Or perhaps the vest isn't for safety at all--it might just add a splash of Halloweeny color to my flat, wooden neighborly friend.
Good work, Jim. Can't wait to see what you muster up for Christmas!(And seriously, I love that man. He's a great guy. A great guy who hopefully doesn't read this blog!)
9 comments:
i'm a parent with someone in the war, but in my case it's the father of my four children who's over there...my oldest has had to be put on anxiety medication...these are hard times for us but we do take one step at a time, thank heavens i have the gospel because if not i think i would be drinking in a tight little wife beater shirt and cut off jean shorts with the pockets hanging out from the bottom (because i've cut them too short), smoking a cigarette, while holding my two year old AND mowing a lawn, yeah i keep going to church just because i fear that i won't look good in those shorts.
That scarecrow is awesome...and safe!
LOL! That's awesome! Since the unofficial Halloween colors are orange and black, I'm guessing the vest is the only orange piece of clothing Jim had. But, I've gotta give him credit... he's about ten times more creative and ambitious than I am. The extent I go to with Halloween decorations is refraining from knocking down all the real spiders and their webs for the month of October.
Pretty scary, that scarecrow.
He gets credit for trying!
The vest is the only Halloween/orange piece of clothing he can spare. He needs the rest for when he goes hunting!
Okay, the pictures are up :-)
I'm trying to see it through my whiskey eyes and I'm pretty sure it needs some shoe laces.
that scarecrow needs a sandwich and some chips, or maybe the theme is "The invasion of the body fat snatchers"
Since it's my hubby out there I can relate. And I do find myself with a cupcake in one hand & a margarita in the other. There is nothing wrong with it.
This is kind of freaky, but that's exactly what I put out in our front yard.
But I don't drink, so I don't really have an excuse.
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