Something's Going Down

Mysterious happenings on Crabtown's busiest corner.

After the slummy cowboy-compound log cabin levitated in front of our very eyes, we thought we'd had our spring highlight. But the actividades suspicionades (no, I don't speak Spanish) continue.

Sometime last week, Crabtot and I were eating breakfast when a very large trailer parked itself beside our house, blotting our view of the neighboring trees and dog-poopy lawn. C-tot waved to the men as they set the trailer up -- on bricks -- clearly this one was going nowhere (unlike the ill-fated log cabin). Crabtot was excited -- a new kind of house on the block, and this one would not leave her, as evidenced by the bricks busily placed beneath trailer towheads or whatever they're called. Crabmom a little less enthused in her purple robe. I try to catch the men's attention but they sort of disappear before I can ask, "how long is this thing going to be here?"

Maybe you wouldn't so much mind a trailer beside your house. But you might if it was emblazoned with the words "REDNECK RACING" in red and black Metallica-ish lettering trailing fire. This sort of impedes my view. Not just of the trees and doggy-do lawn across the street. But my view of myself. it is one thing to live next door to burned out log cabins and meth-sniffing rodeo people who sleep in their cars, but something about this truck -- REDNECK RACING -- right before my very eyes from the breakfast table...it just crosses my line.

So I was all ready to post a picture and all...but the trailer mysteriously disappeared overnight...gone! After one week. C-tot rather disappointed, and I was too, but only because I didn't get the pic. But I have good excuses, such as the unspeakabale tummy bug that kept me from blogging the last 4 days. Nothing like a terrible bug and then a 2-yr-old with you for the ride (Dad away for the whole lovely period).

I am not one of those bloggers who will treat you to a blow-by-blow of my illnesses. Suffice it to say I was hideously ill and could not snap pix of redneck trailers nor do any sort of blogging. So that is why I have been so cyber-silent. It is not because I have ditched this blog in favor of my paying blog (but speaking of...I have a new post up there today too, so please do go and view it, because I need all the new readers I can get to launch the Crabmommy offshoot. Okay, I promise to keep the shameless plugging to a minimum. If, ahem, you promise to do a double-swig of C-Mom today, right here, right now).

So the trailer is gone. But the shenanigans on Crabcorner continue. Sheriffs have been slowly circling the block the past weeks and occasionally stopping beneath the trees or beside my house (before the trailer claimed its place) to speak into their sheriffy implements.

Here our sheriffs are pretty cool-looking with big mustaches and droopy "I've seen it and I aint talkin'" James Coburn-y kind of expressions.

So you get sort of excited when you see their cars. And yer start talkin like someone who lives on Crabcorner. Heck, last year I was out walkin' Tot when the Sheriff stopped and said "Scuse me, Ma'am, but could you please go inside your house as fast as you can." Turned out there were a shooter down the block going plum crazy.

Um. But this year. They lurk about. They pause in front of my house twice, get out of cars and look at me. Finally I ask if I have done something wrong, rather hoping I had. Turns out they'se looking fer my neighbor. I get excited about this news. But no, it's not cowboy-compound neighbors they're after, it's ordinary ski-bum neighbor.

They ask me not to tell him they're looking for him. I agree but only because I don't really know him...plus I want to see things GO DOWN.

And so we wait. I only hope I didn't miss the action while sick in bed. I mean, this is the Wild West and I am ready to see some action. This is exciting stuff. Unless of course the guy just hasn't paid his parking tickets. Which, I'm afraid, in a town this small, is a likely reason for two sheriffs to come knocking.

Will keep you posted.