Don't Be Spittin'

I had no parallel universe experiences yesterday, happily. Despite my recent interaction at the cleaners, maybe I really am still in the right place, time and dimension.

For example, at work, I loaned a library computer charger to a kid who has been banned from borrowing computer chargers because he always returns them late. (We have a "three strikes" policy on chargers, which can't be kept overnight.) I took a gamble that he had matured since those incidents and seen the error of his ways. Had I been in a parallel universe, he would have returned it promptly.

But no -- it's still out. Now he really is banned.

This camellia is blooming in the housing estate where I walk Olga (you can see the estate in the top photo, washed in morning sun). It's interesting how one of the blossoms came out almost totally pink, while the others are all streaky. I didn't even notice all the chicken wire until I got home and looked at this photo -- I wonder if the owners have screened the plant (or possibly their whole garden) from marauding, blossom-plucking squirrels and pigeons? I'll take a closer look the next time I walk by.

Yesterday a group of kids were sitting in the library next to the big plastic bin where we put all the lost jackets and notebooks and other paraphernalia we find in the library. They were laughing and chattering about something, and one of the girls said, "You can spit it in the lost & found bin." Whereupon a boy stood up as if to spit something out -- I think it was gum.

From my desk across the room, I yelled out in my best Southern voice, "Don't BE spittin' in the lost & found! I don't wanna hear those words!" The kids cracked up and the boy sat back down. Later I heard them laughing and repeating, "Don't BE spittin' in the lost & found!" I'm glad I've contributed a memorable line to their high school experience.