The babysitter worked out wonderfully. We had a great time at the match. Six U.S. goals. A patriotic display. Brendan was even on TV! He's got video extracted from it, I'm sure he'll post it at some point. Bridget thinks it's hilarious that her dad was on TV (because we're dorks and DVR-ed the game even though we were there).
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Then, today we decided it was too nice to stay inside, so we went to a park down the road a bit. On the way home, Brendan noticed a boy walking down a pretty busy road alone, and so, we decided to stop, turn around and see what the deal was. He was pretty scared and just wanted his mom, and was about 3. Oh, and he crossed the street on his own, too (it's a four lane road). So I tried to converse with him in Spanish, and Brendan called the police. Four cops later, we had finally understood what his name was, they took his photo with a digital camera and went down the road to where we first noticed him and came back with some of his family. I was a little worried that they wouldn't want to talk to the police but thankfully everything seemed to work out. He was with his grandfather, uncle and brother and lived all the way in Stafford. No wonder he was so confused and scared. Bridget totally understood that the little boy was lost and we helped him find his family. It all ended well.
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And then, just now, three police cars rolled up to the house next door. There have been people over there working lately -- mowing the grass, painting, running power tools out back. As far as I'm concerned, as long as someone is actively caring for the property, it's a good thing. Brendan said that he heard some beeping while he was out grilling, so it's probably just an alarm going off. Again, it's all a good thing. There just hasn't really been too many quiet moment here at home today.
I was making cookies for Bridget to take to daycare tomorrow to celebrate her birthday (a day early since she won't be there on the actual day), now I am making brownies. Why you ask? Because cookies need 2 1/4 cups of flour. I put in 5 quarter cups, put in the first batch and thought they might be a little bigger then usual. It wasn't until I checked on them 6 minutes in that I realized I was a cup short on the flour. They were the grossest looking things. So now, brownies from a box that required no advanced measuring skills. GAH!
We also got the house cleaned today. Holy crap. It feels so decadent. And we'll continue getting it cleaned every two weeks. Already I feel like it was a totally fabulous decision. I feel compelled to keep it clean now, too. Bonus: it smells like lemons in here.
My garden is not doing as well as it could. Not enough sun. But nothing is totally dead, so that's more than some people expected. It's just taking its time.
There's been a lot said about the amount of foreclosures in Prince William county (I think I've said a few things myself). Most recently, there was an article in the Post that touched on Woodbridge, Dale City and Manassas.
As the surge in foreclosures continues and banks repossess more and more houses, property values are declining -- but not everywhere, and not by equal measure, Thompson and other real estate agents said. No part of the region is untouched, but most foreclosures are clustered in certain neighborhoods and several troubled Zip codes. Rather than a sea of slumping housing, Northern Virginia has an island chain of hot spots.
The article does not offer any new insights. The comments, however, are another thing. My personal favorite was this gem:
bbcrock wrote: How could someone in all honesty buy in an area 90 minutes outside the city and NOT expect it was a slum? Really. Who is going to want to drive in at 5am every morning? Desperate people with no options. I'm sorry, I just don't feel bad for the exurbs- they should still be farms. 3/22/2008 9:51:56 PM Recommend (12)
I'd like to give that person a big old one-finger salute. What a complete ASS. I must have missed that memo. Because there are no slums INSIDE actual cities. And 12 people have recommended the comment. WTF?!
I actually do have a point here... The people on one side of us may or may not have been illegal. I don't know. It was none of my business. I do know they overpaid for their house and they just up and left one day (as I've mentioned before). When they were living next door, they kept up the property quite nicely. Then, foreclosure. The house is still empty. But maybe not for too long.
On the other side, the hillbillies were annoying as hell. Their house was bordering on looking like crap. I do not know the immigration status of the people who live there now. Nor do I really care. They keep the outside clean, are quiet (aka not running all over my lawn like little Bobby Hillbilly) and generally seem like decent people.
Of course now we have more people up the street who, dare I say it, are bordering on white trash. Dude is always working on his damn Monte Carlo or totally awesome bright blue Isuzu with awesome gold rims. His buddies are always stopping by in the middle of the road on the opposite side of the street to have some loud yelling conversation. Plus they run the cars up and down the road and around the block and have marked the shit out of the street. I don't expect the spring and summer to bring any improvements there. Oh, did I mention they live obscenely close to the playground? You'd better bet that I'll be all over the police complaint line when things do not improve.
So what's my point here? (Besides, you know, getting all of this out of me and feeling a little better after venting some.) My point is, not all white people are fantastic neighbors. And not all non-whities are evil.
I planted a small (4' x 4') garden on Friday afternoon. Right now I've got some lettuce, arugula, parsley, broccoli plants and radishes, carrots, peas and scallion seeds. In the summer I'll be adding tomatoes, a pepper, bush beans and basil. Rotating back to cool weather plants in the fall. We'll see how it goes. It's small in scale for sure. Brendan was worried I was going to become one of those "Tomato People" who bring in bagfuls to work in August because they got overzealous. I'm only planning on one cherry tomato plant and one regular plant. That should be close to perfect.
We always had a garden when I was a kid: tomatoes, corn, zucchini, cucumber and beans usually. I did not like having to pick up rocks before dad tilled, or weed in the summer (and since Brendan made me an awesome raised bed -- rocks were not a problem and hopefully weeds won't be much of an issue either). But I did love eating raw vegetables while standing in the garden. I am hoping some of that will rub off on Bridget, because right now she does not have a good relationship with vegetables at all.
Last night I decided to rearrange our living room furniture. So I got out the graph paper, had Brendan measure everything (not because I can't measure, but because he thinks I can't measure) and got to work. The plan I had envisioned in my mind and worked out on graph paper actually worked and I'm really pleased.
I haven't moved the living room around much at all since we moved in two years ago and it really needed it. Since there's no television in there, I don't have any chair to TV distance and angle requirements either and that makes moving things around even more fun.
I wonder if we take photos and send them to IKEA if they'd use it in their catalog? I just have to remove one lamp and then everything in there, even most of the accessories, is from their store.
So the Hillbillies have had their house on the market for a while now -- maybe 6 months -- things have really slowed down here. At any rate they've pretty much moved out. Before Christmas, they were away and parked one of their cars across the street, not quite in front of the house across the street from them, but sort of. The lady across the street -- I'll call her Sweater Vest (because I'm not judgemental at all apparently) hates the fact that the Hillbillies have like 5 cars even though it doesn't affect where she parks. So what does SV do? She calls in their vehicle as abandoned. Nice, right? Eventually, some time after Christmas the Hillbillies come back and movetheir car. Well today it seems they've parked their truck right smack in front of SV's house. Ah, the drama. I almost wish we were friends with one of them so we could talk smack. Almost.
