Ziggy's down for a nap after a busy morning:
-- one false attempt at taking the dog to the vet
-- three friend families in separate homes not home to take a walk with us
-- a stop at ArtHouse Gardens for our neighborhood's fourth annual bag sale for Blood: Water Mission (where we bought bags with which to shop, a bag for Mama Booty to claim as summer purse, another for pool, and pink and blue handbags for Mama Loca's girls and a lovely wallet for someone or other)
-- a stop by the new Jolly Rogue Sneaux Ball stand for some New Orleans style refreshment (Zig tried coconut, Mama tried chai -- both were excellent!)
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Diggy is at this moment en route here from the East Texas run, having funeralized and visited.
Supper is in the oven -- a roasting hen, and a pan of vegetables (see above) which include purple cauliflower, broccoli, onion, carrot, sweet pepper, garlic and snow peas. I'll plan to serve these with pasta (orzo or rotini) and fresh lemon, olive oil, & romano cheese, alongside a loaf of French bread.
There is a birthday party we plan to attend, though the sleeping boy and the earlier arriving Diggy may change said plans.
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Conversations, mostly in the car:
Ziggy: Mama, when I get to be a girl and have a rabbit, I'm going to name it Hoppy, because it hops all around so much.
Mama: OK. Sounds good. So you're going to be a girl? When is this going to happen?
Ziggy: On my next birthd.... Naw. Nevermind. I'm not going to be a girl!
Ziggy: Mama, when you get your pet Chinchilla, what are you going to name it?
Mama: Uh, I don't remember what I said....
Ziggy: Potawatami! That's what you said.
Mama: Oh, my goodness. You're right! I can't believe you remembered that. I'd forgotten.
A few minutes later--
Ziggy: Mama, are you impressed? That I remembered that? Potawatami.
Ziggy: I will sleep in my own bed when I can ride a skateboard. When I'm a bigger boy.
Ziggy: Mama, what does water do for people?
Mama: It's the largest part of people's bodies. It quenches our thirst and gets us cool and clean.
Ziggy: Oh.
Mama: Is that what you wanted to know?
Ziggy: Yeah.
Mama: Are you asking because the big girls at the church childcare were selling lemonade and brownies to raise money for clean water in Africa?
Ziggy: Yes!
Ziggy: Mama, what does Bongo Java do for people?
Mama: Well, uh, they make coffee and treats and give people in the neighborhood a place to meet and visit.
Ziggy: Right!
Ziggy: (to the proprietor after eating at the Golden Coast Chinese buffet) I'm going to the bathroom with my Dad. Because I LOVE my dad.
Ziggy: Mama, someday can I do what that green shirt boy did at Grand Haven?
Mama: (searching to put this together) uh..... Oh! You mean the boy with the guitar?
Ziggy: Yeah! What is that called again?
Mama: Busking.
Ziggy: Right, busking. Can I do that?
Mama: Sure you can. When you're a bigger boy.
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We've had a bad stink in and around our home this week. Two nights ago, for the third time, I was moving furniture around and looking for the source. Only this time it was after midnight and my anosmic Mister sat on the sofa kind of shaking his head. It was making me crazy. The smell would come, go, come back stronger. A sick foul poopish deadish gassy smell.
My friend Rose Mary came over yesterday. As she says, she has "the nose of a blood hound." She's also kind, and smart as a whip and Ziggy's nuts over her. The three of us spent the better part of two hours walking and sniffing and pondering in the house, the yard, the neighbor's yard, the basement.
I thought we should have our own mystery scent detective reality show.
We concluded that there is most likely a sick / wounded or dying opossum in the area. Rose Mary told us that they not only faint when frightened, but also emit a noxious odor from a set of glands.
My FaceBook page has told the tale of the unidentified stink all week. The stories I've heard from friends and neighbors of racoons dying under houses, opossum bones under porches, and other nasty stuff are quite colorful.
At this point, I'm just praying for hot dry weather to help this stuff fade on away.
So full was my nose of dead gassy foul stink last night that I encouraged us to get the hickety heck out of here and go eat Chinese.
And then there's this, which Ziggy and I will have a ball with.
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