Queen Mediocretia of Suburbia

Putting the TMI in absentminded

  • Neighbor

    Yesterday my neighbor of almost 40 years was pushing an empty boat trailer up her driveway. She lost control of it, fell on her back, and a tire rolled right over her chest and face.

    I was in my room when I heard soft moaning from across the street. By the time I peeked through the window our other neighbors were pulling the trailer off her. They were on the scene first because they witnessed it from their kitchen window.

    All I could do to help was to get her husband out of the house. (Well, and then I shut him down when his first words to his bleeding wife were “I told you not to –”)

    Eventually, I did suggest she get checked out at the hospital for the bump on her head and the bloody nose, but she said at that point she was fine. So I left. The other neighbors were on top of the situation. They were the first responders, while I was only a second responder, having wasted seconds wondering if it was a weepy child or a lost dog making those noises across the street.

    This is all to explain why last night my body claimed responsibility for HEARING ALL THE NOISES FOR THE ENTIRE NEIGHBORHOOD. I may not be the Neighborhood Watch, but I am the Neighborhood Listen. I heard sirens, a helicopter, many raccoons, possibly a fox, a whining white dog being walked by people in reflective vests, and an unidentifiable buzzing noise.

    Except for the last one all these noises were investigated and were deemed not a threat, because I am vigilant now.

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  • Not my business

    There are a fair number of people who approach all situations with “That is not my business.” Say a nearby stranger is having some drama? These people step daintily in a huge arc around that stranger’s drama.

    These people didn’t have my mother.

    My Mom insisted I wade into other people’s dramas. Usually these discussions began with, “Ellen, you realize you have a responsibility to –” … followed by the legal and moral reasons I should wade in to other people’s problems.

    The earliest one I remember was when I was an IHOP waitress and a Vietnamese woman came in alone and said in broken English that her husband had been beating her and she didn’t know what to do. I also did not know what to do, as it was 1981 and I was 18. I called Mom at her Health and Human Services job and she suggested the lady get to a shelter downtown, and if that couldn’t happen, call the police. Neither the lady nor I could drive, and the church ladies balked at driving downtown. So the policeman arrived and took her away … right back to the man who was beating her. He did come back to report that the husband said that the lady lies, and the policeman had no choice but to leave her there. When I pointed out she was no better off, the policeman said no, the next time something happens there will be a record. This was not a good resolution. (SPOILER: None of these stories has a good resolution.)

    The next thing happened when I was a 21-year-old student teacher and I overheard a high school girl tell her friend, “… and he punched me and never said anything about it.” Mom heard about that at dinner and said, “You realize as a teacher you have to do something.” I pointed out the nuance that the girl said nothing directly to me, and technically I wasn’t a teacher, but after consulting other co-workers Mom said I had to give the girl the abuse hotline number. Which I did, in a very awkward one-sided conversation that had no eye contact or compassion on my part. The girl took the number and said nothing. And then that girl called that number and — I’m kidding. I never saw that girl again. There may not have even been a problem.

    So then I was in my late twenties, and I witnessed an accident. This time I got out of my car, checked on everyone, saw car damage but no evident bodily damage, the person at fault greeted me with “Totally my fault,” everyone agreed they didn’t need my number, and I got back in my car and drove away. I made that accident all my business. And then when I told Mom of course she said my response was insufficient, the woman at fault could well have lied to the police, internal injuries take time to show up, and so on.

    Even though I still have Mom in my head sighing about my responsibilities to other people, it’s hard to know the difference between being responsible and being a busybody / tattletale / attention seeker.

    Like I say, no good resolutions.

    2 comments on Not my business

  • Weekly Paint Progress: 6/11/2026

    Here’s the previous:

    E45D2D69-E768-4FD0-B327-403FF07B1F92

    Here’s the barest touch of progress : I made the closet door half a shade darker. It’s shameful but I tend to go too far too fast and I’m deliberately going at a crawl. So it’s like a guess the difference puzzle. Do you see ANY change?

    … when it was originally this: 

    pitcher of peonies

     

    3 comments on Weekly Paint Progress: 6/11/2026

  • Update on the deer update

    Previously seen on Real Deer of My Subdivision:

    Two days ago a doe and two fawns were in our yard. Mom left one of the two fawns behind in our yard. Hours later the fawn was gone.

    One day ago a mystery neighbor posted in community Facebook page there was a fawn in his landscaping. There was a photo. “Only one?” I worry.

    This morning he posted a video of two fawns in his landscaping. I am jealous. I also notice our bird bath has been knocked to the ground as happens when deer drink from it.

    This afternoon Gary left the house and came back to report this:

    Coming home from buying more bird food, the doe crossed in front of me leaving our subdivision going into a much nicer subdivision.  The houses in our subdivision are starter houses, so quite an upgrade for the doe.  At first, there was only one fawn but then the other came out of nowhere and BOTH of her fawns were following her to her new ritzy digs.

    I wanted to make a comment about how resourceful that doe is buying bird food for her children, but I did not.

    2 comments on Update on the deer update

  • Impending bear and raccoon visitations

    There’s a bear less than 50 miles away, as is their wont in summer.

    I’m surprised we haven’t had a baby raccoon visitation yet.

    Deer update: a neighbor reported seeing a lost fawn in his front shrubbery. I will worry about that baby deer for the rest of my life.

    2 comments on Impending bear and raccoon visitations

  • Deer visitation

    Very exciting visitors yesterday.

    The two fawns below had alread been nursing for a minute before Gary looked up from his book. He was caught unprepared so he was a little rattled.

    After they left, I walked to the front yard to watch where they were headed and discovered that when deer are rattled they make a sound like an exploding tea kettle, and then Mom walks away with the favored fawn like in Sophie’s Choice and leaves the other fawn in your backyard.

    The fawn stayed by the fence until it suited Mom to come back, I suppose. It was gone an hour later.

    (By the way, when the mother begins licking the fawn’s back I distinctly remember saying “Ohh, look.” Yet what is on the recording is a pretty distinct “Ohh, fuck.” Again with the unreliable memories.)

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  • TWIL: Some slime molds have great names

    Gary’s biology degree (well, near-degree) has some benefits. For example, our shower never has mold. It has “slime mold.”

    I see now there are even more descriptive names for some specific slime molds.

    For example, dog vomit slime mold.

    (It doesn’t grow out of dog vomit. It just looks like dog vomit.)

    Other Slime molds:

    Bubble Gum Slime Mold, Tapioca Slime Mold, Moon Poo Slime Mold, Chocolate Tube Slime Mold, Tree Hair Slime Mold

    6 comments on TWIL: Some slime molds have great names

  • I have Become Death, Scanner of Documents.

    I had assembled all the documents I needed to submit for this Radiation Compensation Claim, but then I stopped and dragged my feet for a month.

    I had a plan to scan in one document a day into the online portal, but then I went on a tear and scanned everything from 4:30 to 12:30. It would be so ironic if the scanner emitted so much radiation that I got cancer.

    After that the form was easy. But it is odd to see “Manhattan Project” on every page of the form. That’s legitimately a part of history. I feel like Dad’s in heaven drinking with Robert Oppenheimer smoking, eating barbebue, and complaining how long it took me.

    Anyway, done now. Now I wait for six months.

    2 comments on I have Become Death, Scanner of Documents.

  • How to fix a noisy Toto toilet the right way

    Remember when I fixed my noisy toilet? I was so pleased with myself for having jiggled the toilet into submission.

    Sadly, it began making noise again last week. I had to wait until Gary was out of the house before I could get my hands into the tank and begin jiggling again.

    I was poking and jiggling and suddenly noticed one of the bits I was jiggling had a slot designed for a screwdriver.

    Yep. I tightened it, still had the problem, loosened it, problem went away. I feel quite foolish.

    Than again, maybe the Toto just wants some attention. Maybe it just wanted my hands in there jiggling its bits.

    2 comments on How to fix a noisy Toto toilet the right way

  • Weekly Paint Progress: 6/4/2026

    Here’s where I left off on the pitcher of peonies:

    E45D2D69-E768-4FD0-B327-403FF07B1F92

    … when it was originally this: 

    pitcher of peonies

    Let’s see if I can’t make peony petals look like they aren’t made of bologna.

     

    6 comments on Weekly Paint Progress: 6/4/2026
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