The tag was out of state. My husband wasn't home, New-Man was at school and the dogs were no where to be found. The automatic garage door was wide open.
My heart started pounding. I was sure I caught a perpetrator red handed. I imagined him (or them) having a field day inside the house.
Being the daughter of a retired detective, I tentatively pulled my truck up the driveway and snapped a few photos so the police would have the make, model and license plate number for a positive ID later.
I wasn't sure what to do next. Do I call the police now? Or should I turn around and call them at the entrance to our long driveway, thereby blocking the only escape route for the getaway car?
I was just about to start dialing when all of a sudden, someone opened the door to the house and the dogs bounded outside. HUH?
I stared with bewilderment. Did the perps know I was outside? Had they seen me? Were they about to make a run for it?
Then the door opened again! And lo and behold, it was...
...Next Eldest son. Home for a surprise visit (in a rented car)!
After my heart settled down and my breathing returned to normal, I gave him a big "Welcome" greeting.
Buns is just thrilled to have someone new to explore.
I think they're having a staring contest to see who will be the first to look away.
We don't throw baseballs or footballs around here. To welcome one of the sons back to the homestead, we throw Lacrosse balls.
It's our family's national past time. All three sons played in high school.
After Next-Son, Clay threw this ball, he yelled, "INCOMING" at me. Sometimes you have to pay the price to "get the shot" in order to store a great memory on disc. I'm fine. It missed. Thanks for wondering.
Now that you know we weren't robbed and I wasn't clobbered by the Lacrosse ball, let me divert your attention elsewhere.
Let your eyes float downward on the picture above. Notice anything? How about the sad condition of this lawn?
It was lovely when we put in new sod but the trees soon shaded it to oblivion. Now, it's just a long green expanse of some grass but mostly weeds with a touch of my favorite green earth covering: MOSS.
I truly love this stuff.
I was coming out of the hairdressers and spotted this. I hesitated.
Then, throwing all dignity aside, I snapped these photos even though it was almost dark.
Moss in Georgia 2012
This is a lovely carpet of moss growing on a lawn in Maine. It was in October 2011. It was so lush, soft and green. It was calling my name. I wanted to lie down on it and roll all over. I refrained from doing so. I didn't want to lose friends.
A close up of the same lawn.
Moss on my friends front door brick steps and guard rail in Massachusetts. October 2011.
Moss in the woods in Wilner, Switzerland. 2009
I wish I had taken more pictures of the rocks, fallen logs all covered.
Moss in New Hampshire woods. 2007
I know I've taken you on a lengthy tortuous journey on this post but bear with me. Wrapping all this up, remember the boys playing Lacrosse in the back "yard"? Imagine, that whole strip of green weeds being a dense, lush carpet of thick, soft MOSS. Wouldn't that be a sumptuous delight for the eyes and feet?
Imagining on Whippoorwill Road,