'Tis the season...?

It's 6:42pm, and the sky is almost dark. Sigh.

There's a house I've just noticed out in West Seattle. It was a house that blended into the scenery only a month ago, a house that I barely looked at as I walked a long-haired Dachshund named Riley past its chain-link fence. A nice house, to be sure, but nothing about it caught my attention. Until last week. During the first week of October, this house was transformed from an unassuming ranch to a razzle dazzle Christmas cabin. I'm talking multiple manger scenes in the yard, lights strung across the fences and walkways and front and back porches, gingerbread houses on the inside windowsills. The display grows each day, staple-gunned into place by an elderly man who wears a red jacket and red-brimmed cap. That's not to say he resembles Santa. On the contrary, he's thin and from what I can tell, he's not very jolly. Each morning I see him at work, and I keep hoping he'll look up and we can share a smile or something, so I can let him know that someone notices and, well, enjoys the fruits of his labors. Because I do, I totally dig on this October Christmas display, especially as I pass the houses nearby with Halloween decor scattered about their yards. It's almost like this man is saying SCREW YOU to their holiday of haunts and shouting out loud that Christmas is the best holiday EVER! In truth, I don't think that's in any way what he's up to, but I like to play out the possible internal monologue in his head as I walk by:

"These kids with all their hobgoblins and witchery, don't know a thing about what real holiday spirit feels like, they just want candy candy candy and like to throw toilet paper in people's trees, weeeeeeeeellllll I'll teach them a thing or two about holiday spirit, the GOOD kind of spirit, not these ghosty things they like to dress up like, crazy kids with their crazy candy habits, next thing you know they'll be dressing up any crazy way they feel like any darned day of the year, but don't they already, don't they already dress up like it's Hall-o-ween every day, with their long hair and earrings in every place you can think of and shoes that make no good sense to walk in, crazy kids with their crazy holidays, we'll just see what they think when they see this little baby Jesus swaddled in his manger, he doesn't need any crazy costume because he is perfect just as he is and his birthday is the perfect holiday, who wouldn't think so, who wouldn't choose gingerbread over tricks and treats and maybe this year when they come ringing my doorbell asking for candy I'll give them all candy canes or better yet I'll give them some toothpaste to ward off the tooth rot and tell them to come back in 2 months for a gingerbread man, that's what I'll do..."

Honestly, I feel sad when I walk by and see him working. I feel sad because I've never seen anyone else near the house, and so I imagine that he's alone. I imagine that he and his wife shared this house for many happy years, and they always loved Christmas, always loved the decorations and the festive spirit and the music and all things Christmas. I imagine that she passed away some time ago, leaving him alone with the decorations, and now he can't wait until it's time to put them up again, because it gives him something to do, a purpose of sorts, while he tries not to miss her so desperately. The first week of October, and he's already covered the house in lights, he's already covered the yard in plastic snowmen and candy canes. Who does this? I get annoyed when stores have Christmas displays up before Thanksgiving, but even retail doesn't start this soon. Who does this? Maybe he's just kooky for Christmas, I don't know. I hope so. I hope he's the happiest man in his neighborhood. But until the day he decides to look up from his labors and share a smile with me, I can't help but have my heart break a little as I walk on by.

The rainy season is upon us.

Just so this post doesn't end on a note of heartbreak, here's a picture of Riley the Dachshund:

Is that a face you'd be happy to see each morning or what?

Meet the Newest Member of the Family!

His name is Petey, and he's adorable.

How did we come to welcome a purple PT Cruiser into our lives? It happened like this: I decided I wanted to spend more time with animals, so I looked into volunteering at some local animal shelters, which seems to be a pretty popular thing to do because the shelters I contacted were full up on volunteers. That same day, I got a call from my BFF asking if I'd be interested in walking some dogs (she and her hubby have a dog-walking business and were losing one of their walkers). Seemed like it was meant to be! Only hitch, the business is in West Seattle, which means I'd be putting about 35 miles a day on the Camaro. About the same time, I got cast in a show 30 miles south of Seattle, which meant an additional 60 miles a day for the better part of 3 months. The Sexy Beast Camaro gets 15 miles to the gallon and only takes hi-test, which was looking to be a pricey commuting vehicle. Also, it has rear-wheel drive and a mighty powerful engine, the combination of which means it refuses to drive when there's even a hint of snow or ice on the road. Not so good for the winter driving I'll be doing. AND, we got a super-good deal on the Camaro, and have taken really good care of it and haven't added many miles, which means we can eventually sell it for a good price, though adding hundreds of miles every week would cause it to devalue rather rapidly. So, add it all up, and it seemed that getting a second car was in our best interest, and eventually it would pay for itself in saved mileage and gas money.

But a purple PT Cruiser?

This is how Alex operates: we decided to go to some used car lots to see what was out there, with no need to actually buy anything that day. We stopped at a couple of small lots, saw nothing worthwhile, then went to a larger lot and had a man show us around. We let him know we were looking for "cheap and reliable", no bells and whistles, just a road-worthy vehicle that would safely get me where I need to go without requiring hi-test or snow chains. We were shown some Kia's, a couple of Chevey Aveo's, some cars with non-functioning door handles. Then the salesman asked if we'd be interested in a PT Cruiser. He pointed to a shiny, chrome-detailed, plum PT, and I immediately thought, "Cute, but way out of our price range." What the hell, I took it for a spin. Of the cars I drove, it was definitely the nicest ride, and the previous owner (there was only 1) clearly loved this vehicle and took very good care of it. Still, it was too pretty for our money. By this time, I was tired of car shopping, which meant it was time for Alex's favorite activity: haggling. There are few things that make me more uncomfortable than watching Alex drive a hard bargain, though I must admit, he is extremely good at it. So, I told him that he could have his fun while I went across the street to the pet store to get some cat food. I'm pretty sure I left him by saying, "Have fun, but remember that we have time, so you don't need to buy anything today." And I'm pretty sure he said, "I know, I'm just having fun." Jump cut 20 minutes: I walk back into the dealership to see Alex with a pen in his hand. He looks up from whatever he's writing, sees me, and drops the pen like he's a schoolboy caught cheating on his math test. I said, "Did you just buy a car?" And he said, "You really liked the PT Cruiser, right?" Sigh.

But here's what you need to understand about Alex: he made an offer on the car that was about 1/2 the asking price. They said no way. He said fine. (He understood that we really didn't need a car that day, so he felt no pressure whatsoever to strike a deal.) They went back and forth a few times until finally the owner of the dealership got involved and said, "What do I need to do for you to buy a car today?" And this was Alex's response: "This is the first dealership I've really looked at, which means I don't know what deals are out there, so in order for me to buy a car from you today, I need to feel like I'm ripping you off." I don't think this line gets used very often, because the owner laughed and then said, okay. He showed Alex the invoice for his own purchase of the car, and sure enough, the dealership lost money on the deal they made with Alex.

And that is how Petey joined the family.

But don't assume that we are calling him Petey simply because he's a PT cruiser. He is actually named after a very dear friend of ours whom we traveled to Maine with a few years ago. Our friend Petey Vigs was very excited for us to see the car he rented for the trip, and we had to laugh when he rolled up in a PT Cruiser and said, "Look, I got a Petey Cruiser!" It was a wonderful weekend with a wonderful group of friends, and I will always think of dear Petey Vigs when I'm rolling down the street in my purple PT Cruiser. Welcome to the family, Petey!

Look at how cute he is next to his brother:

Almost as cute at their other brothers: