Today was my first full day as The Housesitter. It was historic on many levels. For starters, I drove a car (and a Volvo station wagon at that!) for this first time in six years!! I was nervous for maybe the first ten minutes, especially since I had to go from the quiet side streets right onto the Post Road. (It was the only way to get to the beach...) But pretty soon I was leaning back, blasting Z-100 (bad suburban habits die hard) and getting reacquainted with things like stop signs and parking lots.
The beach was great but full of jellyfish, so I decided to take a drive around parts of Fairfield County, my old stomping grounds. Norwalk, where I grew up, hasn't changed all that much. However, Brien McMahon High School has gone through some sort of space-agey transformation. They even have air conditioning. When I was there I was amazed if I got a new textbook.
Anyway, people are coming over Wednesday night for BBQ (you're welcome as well...) Until then I am keeping busy with assorted projects. I have a zillion books to read, a few writing projects and three dogs to keep me company. Ramie and Buster are the two big dogs. Ramie is an uber-friendly golden retriever who just wants to have a tennis ball tossed to him all day long. His dopey sidekick is a spazzy pug named Yogi with a gimp hip. He's sleeping on the couch right now. Buster is the dark, brooding middle child who would prefer to be left alone so he can sniff around the bushes and bark at the cat, Noozle.
I have noticed a strange shortage of Red Bull here in the 'burbs. As in, I can't find any. In New York City you can buy it at any corner drugstore. Here in Westport, it's a little hard to come by. I had to buy some cheap imitation at the Stop and Shop today. It was lovely going to a real grocery store, but I'll take a filthy bodega stocked with the lightly carbonated, caffeinated beverage of my choice rather than a store that takes up over an acre but doesn't have my sweet, sweet nectar
By the way, the above photo was taken a few days ago when Photographer Bruno and I went to the Maritime hotel. It was good times, as is par for the course with Bruno.
Okay, time to prepare for Laguna Beach. That show rocks.
P.S. I should add that there is little more disconcerting than being roused from sleep in a house you're not familiar with by the sound of three telephones ringing and not being able to find said phones. It's even worse when all you're wearing is a little tank top and your skivvies and the herniated disc in your back is torturing you for two weeks of no physical therapy.
