At 11:30 last night I got an email from my mother with the subject of “Robbery” and the only line in it saying “are you up?”. I called and Mom said that someone tried to rob my father in their front yard but that he overpowered the kid and took his gun from him. Apparently the only injury he sustained was a dislocated shoulder.

It’s just another example of how my father continually amazes me. He had gone out to make sure the cars were locked, armed only with his trusty flashlight (it’s really more of a spotlight). When he was out at the street he noticed three teenagers walking down the middle of the road. Once he had made it back to the middle of the front yard, he heard the “whump whump whump” of someone trying to stop after a sprint. He turned and there was a kid, maybe 15, hopping around and waving his extended arm in his face.

My father’s first reaction was confusion at what his problem was. Then he saw there was a handgun at the end of that extended arm and confusion turned to rage. My father made a noise like a grizzly bear, shined his trusty spotlight right in the kid’s face and lunged for him. In the scuffle the light hit the ground just before Daddy and the kid hit the ground. He managed to get both of his hands on the gun so the kid let go. At that point, he had the kid pinned behind him on the ground and had turned the gun over his own right shoulder, trying to fire it at the kid with his thumb. That’s when he realized the chamber was empty and wouldn’t fire. That’s also when the kid realized he was in way over his head and took off in a sprint.

My mother had heard the commotion and came out just as they had hit the ground but all she could do was scream angrily from the front porch. After the kid took off, my parents just stood in the middle of the street and called 911. Then Mom came inside to email me.

When I first heard all of this, I was furious. I wanted to take a baseball bat to the punk who tried to ruin it for everyone in MY neighborhood. That worthless criminal was in the front yard of my childhood home. I had been out walking my dog not an hour before this thug had accosted my father. What if it had been my mother out there? Who does this kid think he is?

After talking to my father more, I was actually more angry at their next door neighbor. He was in his conversion van in the driveway next to this scuffle and DIDN’T DO A GODDAMN THING. He can’t call 911? He can’t peek out the window to see if maybe my father is making a noise from the Edge because he’s wrestling with some kid one fourth his age 30 FEET AWAY. Fuck him.

So to recap, I’ll be taking a 9 iron with me on my evening walks, my parents are getting a new light in the front yard, their neighbor is a coward and my father is a one man Neighborhod Watch Machine. As Rich noted, the kid tried to rob an old man and that old man kicked his ass and took his gun from him in front of his friends. Short of peeing on him I’m not sure my father could have shamed the little shithead any more.

I’m in a mood where I just sit and listen to the same semi-depressing song over and over and over while surfing the web. Because this not so slowly drives my husband insane, I have donned the headphones so I can crank it up (a la Freedom Rock) and not disturb him.

My cousin’s baby shower is on Friday afternoon (who plans stuff like that for a Friday afternoon?). I’m waffling between getting her something she picked from her registry or something New and Exciting and Nifty she Never Thought Of Before. I’m thinking we’re gonna go registry at this point and once the twins (!) are born and I have a chance of seeing them ex utero, I’ll find some truly amazing gift.

I wrote a check for $3800 today to have a new roof put on our old house. We’re starting the ironic part of moving where we’re now doing all the home improvements we didn’t bother to do while living there so that someone else will want to live there. I hope they find pewter grey architectural shingles acceptable.

I’m sure your dogs are good, those of you that have dogs, but our dogs are THE BEST. I can walk them both off leash on our new street and they both listen to me and don’t run off and stop when I stop and know when we’re at our house again so they can run (or hobble in Sarah’s case) with abandon all over that front yard but not anyone else’s.

Watching Katie Couric interview Sarah Palin is painful in the same way the first season of the Office was. I’m waiting for one of them to award the other the Bushiest Beaver.

Perhaps I will be less cranky after my vacation in 10 days. Watching a baby porcupine with the hiccups helps too.

I dare you to watch and keep your mouth shut for all 2:40 of it.

After eating dinner around 9:30 tonight, I was hunting around looking for dessert. We have managed to buy groceries since the move, but things are still pretty scattered in the house so I haven’t really been breaking out the cookbooks and working up any creme brulee these days.

I stumbled upon an individual fruit cup of peaches and some Sarah Lee pound cake my mother had left here. As I was crafting my dessert plate, I started saying to myself “peaches and pound cake”, amused at the alliteration. Then I realized why it was stuck on repeat in my head.

My father talked about being in Vietnam and that when the helicopters would drop their food, everyone would barter and bicker like kids over the desserts. Daddy has said on more than one occasion that peaches and pound cake helped keep his spirits up while overseas.

After an incredibly long day, peaches and pound cake really hit the spot. If things continue like this, I may have to get Mom to mail me dry socks and Smithfield ham, just like she did for Daddy 40 years ago.

I promise to tell you all about how successful the Nosy Neighbor Open House was, but right now I’m weary from moving and could use some cheering up.  I took another truckload of junk from the old house to the new house and then decided to wander around our new home marveling that we’re actually living here.

So to share in the fun and to spare you my whining about how much crap we have moved this week, let’s take a close up tour of some of my favorite parts of the new home.

This house was originally built in 1947, and while we’ve upgraded many things (can I get an AMEN that I can print and the lights don’t dim?!), we have tried to keep many things as they were. One of the little joys I have is the doorknobs downstairs. Some are glass and some are cast metal but they’re all precious and remind me of my grandmother’s apartment when I was little.

Our front door has a snazzy feature of its own, in that the door knocker is a chime. No one will know how to use it without instructions and you can’t really hear it beyond the front room, but it’s a very pleasant chime all the same if you happen to be within 20 feet of the front door.

When we created the new master bath, I lobbied for a double vanity. My father thought it was extravagant and Rich reminded me that he does most of his morning ritual in the shower so he doesn’t really need his own sink, but I wanted some breathing room and a place for all my stuff without being crowded by all his shit (as George Carlin would say). This vanity will save us a lot of money in marriage counseling at some point down the road, I’m sure of it.

After the construction fiasco was over, we still had to decide on flooring for the house. I got fairly fretty about all of our flooring options because none of them were cheap and they were all a commitment to what would be all under all our furniture for many years to come. We decided to re-carpet the entire upstairs in a light something-or-other that had something to do with ducks as far as stain resistance. Within 24 hours of moving into the house, Emily couldn’t bear the stress of it all and showed it by puking on our brand new carpet. I got it up with paper towels and a smidge of 409. It was wonderous. Whatever marketing they used for this carpet about water off a duck’s back was right. This carpet kicks ass. It’s also about 4″ thick so it’s like walking on marshmallows. I love our carpet (and so do the kitties).

Speaking of kitties, we added a door from my sewing room out to our new laundry room in the remodel. Last night we added a cat door to that door so the kitties can get out to the laundry room to get to their litter boxes. This is great because we don’t have to create elaborate defenses against the dogs around the boxes and we no longer have kitty poo in our living space. With three indoor kitties that’s a lot of poo and I’m happy to provide them with their own doorway to get to their facilities. While they’re out there, you’d think they could be helpful and move the laundry from the washer to the dryer. Ungrateful cats.