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Click, click click, click, click, click click click.
Our heater makes an annoying clicking noise, and that's
what I thought it was, but it persisted in its irregularity and when Matthew got up to go to the
bathroom, I realized it was coming from outside. The click, click
turned out to be a thwack, thwack -- gardeners grooming the ivy
along the driveway running right under our window.
I turned my bleary eyes to the clock. Seven. And then
the lawn-mower started. I got up and trotted to the bathroom and opened
the window. One man was running the mower. Another was raking up the ivy
he had thwacked away. I waited until he got close. "Could you please
wait until 8 o'clock? Please!" He looked at me and I could feel the I
don't speak English defense coming on, so I mustered up my three years
of high school Spanish and said "Ocho." He looked at his watch, then
nodded to me. Then he had the brilliant idea to whistle at his partner.
The man was running an industrial lawn-mower. He whistled several more
times before figuring out that he needed to actually walk over to the man.
And I got back in bed at 7:20, satisfied.
Scrape, scrape, scrape. I decided I could live
with the raking as long as there was no more mowing.
In other news, my dad called me today to ask if I knew
how to get in touch with my mom, which I thought was pretty funny since
the last conversation I had with her involved her saying that she would
leave her contact information with my dad.
[For those that might be new to the story: my parents
are divorced. My mom just sold her house and bought a new one (along with
making various other life changes). So she's staying in a hotel until I
don't know when.]
The idea of her going MIA is simply amusing. I'm sure
we'll hear from her by the end of tomorrow.
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