Wednesday, August 13, 2008


I have always said I wanted a moat. Mostly because I thought it would be cool to have a moat around my house. And, of course, so I could have a moat monster in it. Or at the very least, so I could swim laps and not have to think about learning that turn-around-flippy-movement swimmers do when they reach the end of the pool. But mostly? The moat monster.
Our yard is not really big enough for a project like that anyway. In fact, I think it might even violate some by-laws or something. Which has always disappointed me, I'll have you know. No moat, no evil forest, no chickens. Dang city won't let me have ANYTHING good. Heck, after 12 years I am finally allowed to have a compost bin. Baby steps, people. Baby steps.
Why am I even thinking about this right now? Because I think we have a monster under our porch. On TV and in cartoons and stuff, whenever they want to express the sentiment "A monster lives here" they always show a darkened hole, or cave, or opening and just in front of it? A pile of bones.
There is a big crack between the sidewalk and the porch.
See that thing there? Let's look a little closer.
That there is a bone. The bone is next to the crack, and there is a little pile of gravel next to the bone. I have no idea where the gravel came from. There is DIRT in the crack, not gravel. Perhaps it was dragged from the depths of hell out of which the monster erupted to grab it's hapless victim, leaving nothing but a single bone in it's wake. Stripped of flesh and flung aside to serve as a warning to others that follow.
Or a stray cat got into somebody's garbage and found the edge of the porch a nice quiet place to savor it's catch.
Whatever. I prefer the monster theory. As for the city? I wonder how much it costs for a monster license.....


Nichol said...

Great blog. Just so great!

Anonymous said...

I just hate it that you've gone back to a regular office job -- and not 'blogging' for me every day!!