Skip to main content

Corona Diaries: Call Me Gladys

 After fourteen months of working from home, I’m convinced that the biggest perk is the view.

My “office” is situated on a hill, so I can see everything and everyone, but they can’t see me see them.
 My “office” is situated on a hill, so I can see everything and everyone, but they can’t see me see them.

Remember Gladys Kravits, the nosy neighbor on Bewitched who made it her business to surveil everything that everyone was doing from her front window?

Thanks to COVID and working from home, I am Gladys Kravitz now.

As the Neighborhood Gladys, I’ve seen things. Things I would’ve missed on my way hurrying out the door in a game of beat the clock. Things I would’ve missed at the office.

Like, The Squirrel Community.

Yeah, they’re all adorable, but the let me tell you: the Squirrel Community is rife with inequity and bullying. Ever hear a squirrel growl? I have. It happened during that little chase game you might’ve seen and liltingly laughed at. 

But it’s no game, it is WAR. Bully Squirrel (that’s what I call him) chases and growls at little guys daily.

He may be cute, but he’s not innocent.

Because I am the Neighborhood Gladys, I notified my across the street neighbor about Bully Squirrel and his antics. She thought I was a little bit loopy but nothing out of the ordinary (for me at least). BUT (and it’s a big but) we chatted the other day and she was like “OMG, I saw Bully Squirrel and he’s absolutely awful!”

I nodded knowingly.

Then there are The Crows – or more appropriately and accurately, there’s a MURDER OF CROWS. They talk, they plot, they plan. I’ve heard them; and, while I don’t know the crow language, but they are definitely up to something.

Every morning around 10:00, there’s one about the size of a toddler on a tricycle that STRUTS down the middle of the sidewalk in front my office window.

Not actual footage, but pretty darned close.

Anyhoo, I stepped out on the porch to see one of them treading air like one treads water in front of my neighbor’s picture window. It was horrifying. But it didn’t end there. He starts screeching and his friends pop over and land on my neighbor’s car.

ON. THEIR. CAR.

THEIR CAR, Y’ALL!!!!

Met up with my neighbor who knows the horror of Bully Squirrel and was like But what is going on with these crows? She said I KNOW. WHAT IS GOING ON? We looked up, scanned the trees, resumed our conversation in hushed tones and then tip-toed back to the safety of our homes.

Later, she texted this

Bottom line is that I like these work from home perks.

Even if they scare me a little.

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

What 6 Christmas Songs Got Wrong

After Thanksgiving, a birthday party last week, another birthday party this week and Christmas coming up next week, I am officially overwhelmed. It'd take more time than I have to explain what yet needs to be done and if you're like me, you're probably overwhelmed and don't have the time nor inclination to read it all anyway. But even with an overflowing plate, I still love the Christmas season -- from setting up the Christmas tree that we got two weeks ago and decorated only yesterday, to lighting bayberry scented candles, to every Rankin & Bass Christmas Special, and the music. Oh, the music. Songs have a way of putting you in the Christmas spirit, warming your heart and next thing you know, you're hugging a stranger in the elevator. Okay, um...maybe that's just me. But alas, all songs are not created equal; and the following Christmas songs inspire and awaken anything but peace on earth and goodwill to men. 1. Christmas Shoes : This song makes my ...
21 comments
Read more

The Post I've Feared Writing

In the few years under my belt as a hack writer, I’ve read a lot of posts from a lot of other bloggers, hoping to pick up on the things that make a piece great or gripping. This nonprofessional research has turned up one thing: honesty. Honesty, as in Are-you-sure-you-wanna-say-that-out-loud honesty. Yeah. That. The great pieces have always been from writers who speak from their hearts and say things that are ironically funny, sometimes painful, but always glaringly, transparently, and sometimes embarrassingly, true.   Bare. Truth. Transparency. That takes courage akin to walking on a frozen pond during the spring thaw.  Think about it: we’ve all got stories that could make us great writers – even the hacks like me, but it’s all a question of courage: what are we willing to share? Are we willing to bare some uncomfortable things?   In my case, it’s missing my mom. Oh, the coward in me will casually refer to losing her at a young age and wax philosophic a...
20 comments
Read more

The Occasional Car

There's nothing special about our neighborhood. No quaint cul de sacs. Just streets that run north to south, sandwiched in between two busy avenues. It's a throwback place -- a hub of post-WWII homes and tree-lined streets whose limbs form a sort of cathedral ceiling. It's a silent night neighborhood . After dark, outside of a few who power-walk dogs begging them to go potty or poop and the occasional car slowly driving north or south, everyone's inside at nighttime. At midnight, Jamie and I were driving that occasional car, returning from a date night while Georgia was at a sleepover. The sky was clear, snowflakes sprinkled past the streetlamps and the streets and sidewalks were empty. Modern Love came on the radio as we began making the slight ascent to our block. We sang along and I knew we'd have to abandon it and our singing by the time we parked. We reached a stop sign at the top of the hill, and Jamie checked for any occasional westbound or eastbo...
18 comments
Read more