It’s a little sad, seeing your old home for sale in Captured thoughts

  • Aug. 20, 2020, 12:45 p.m.
  • |
  • Public

I order online and then go up to High St and picked up some essential oils, in this case they are a small bottle of 100%CBD oil and one of 50/50 mix of THC/CBD. I like oils. I like them a lot. The jury is still out on the CBD. It doesn’t make me feel much differently.
Kind of mellow.
No buzz.
Just calm. And all the little aches and pains are gone.

I go to the library next to pick up one book. Turns out there are seven. Luckily I had brought a grocery bag with me. (I brought the bag to hide the cannabis oil. You never know who you are going to bump into in this town). I actually see I guy I know, a guy so dumb that he has to wear wooden shoes to keep the woodpeckers away from his head. But he doesn’t see me as I duck into the shop.
This town is so small that it can’t afford a village idiot, everyone has to take a turn now and again and luck might have it that I will be spotted by an idiotic former client, a old neighbour, a colleague, a soccer parent, or someone who will tell someone that will tell someone and the next thing you know, I’ve got a reputation as not only a drunk but also as a stoner too.

Back home I go to work on the RV. Mattie did not dump the tanks so as soon as it starts to rain, I head out to my dumping grounds. Unfortunately it hadn’t rained there and there were too many cars and a pedestrian around. I drive back home.
I end up dumping into the storm sewer in front of the house, when it rains a few hours later.
I go to work on the water heater, but after several hours give up. Some things, many things are beyond my level of ability.

Then I try out the oil and then again a little later. My thoughts turn to wonder, to wander. Why do junkyards have dogs? If it is to protect the junk maybe there could be a better place for junkyard dogs — like banks!

I drive by my old house. We sold it back in 2014 (February) and as I drive by (on the way to dump the tanks) I notice a truck and trailer in the driveway. I had noticed that the place was empty last week. So I thought there was someone new moving in maybe. The guy who bought it from me six years ago had a bunch of kids who would be coming to town to go to University.
But no, when I drive back a little later on (after not dumping) the sign was up. For Sale.
It’s a little sad somehow seeing your old home for sale.
It was sadder for the kids seeing their old bedrooms being advertised for rent.

And our old neighbour strolls by when I’m in the driveway working on the heater. We have a chat, but not about the kids. Their kids were weird and went to private schools and as young adults they did not live up to their parent’s projected potential.
Precocious at 12, flamed out at 22!


You must be logged in to comment. Please sign in or join Prosebox to leave a comment.