Hearts and Houses for Sale: Broom, Witch, and Katz

The bouncing brought Selene to her senses. "Ouch,  put me down, put me down," she demanded.  "I have a broken rib. Put me down."

"Just another moment, ma'am," the fireman said. He held her firmly to him. "Can you sit up?"

"What's going on here?" Selene demanded. "I was talking on the phone." She remembered the fog and her headache which had become an eye-ache. "I look terrible. Why did you take me out of my house? Oh no! Is my house on fire?"  Selene looked the fireman in the face. "Oh my!" she said. He was gorgeous, and young enough to be her son. 

"No, no, no. It's your neighbor's garage, up the hill," he said as he seated her with large gloved strong hands in a green lattice chaise brought round from her patio. "Caused lots of smoke. Seems you were the only person in your cul de sac at home." 

"I smell it," Selene said. "Nasty. What is that?" She rubbed her eyes, then stopped. Make-up smear, she thought.

"Linseed oil and paint rags," the fireman said. "Never leave old paint rags in linseed oil, ma'am. It's a sure thing to catch fire."

"I know that," Selene said as her back and neck cracked at the same time. "I'm a real estate agent."

"Oh yeah," he said. "I've seen your bus bench ad. I knew you looked familiar." 

Selene had to laugh. She'd had that advertisement for years and no one ever remarked on it. He had to be under 30. "Are you interested in buying?" she asked.

"Well, actually, my wife wants this one house in particular. She saw it yesterday with our boys and her dad," he said. "Did you break your fingers or sprain them?"

Selene sighed. Would anyone believe this if she told them ,which about now she was thinking she probably wouldn't. "Twin boys came to my open house yesterday and bumped into me. I broke the rib and fingers when I hit the floor," she said, looking him straight in the eye, unflinching. She could not stop the smile that crept across her face. "The boys wanted to see the tree house. Their grandpa is quite a character."

"Ah, no. I'm so sorry, do you believe that, ah, ma'am...," he didn't have anymore words to say. He turned left then right and backed off about two feet. "Hey, Captain, come here," he called to a man near the fire truck. "This is the real estate lady the boys knocked down."

"It's okay," Selene said. "Occupational hazard. I was about to leave for the office to review your offer before all this." Watching a fireman squirm didn't seem right. A shiver went down her spine. "Are you afraid of me now?" she asked. "Really. Help me up. I have to go open all the windows to air the house, and..." The car. It was back at the open house property, Henry Powell was on the way, and, he had her cell phone. 

The Captain stood at attention in front of her.  "Nice to meet you. How you feeling?" he asked. "You should stay out of your house for the rest of the day."  He shifted his weight from foot to foot. "I'm Captain Katz. This is Lieutenant Broom. So, you met his boys?" he asked, laughing in spite of his stiff stance and stolid demeanor.

"Hello," Selene said. "It's nice to meet you both. I didn't even hear the fire truck arrive. Thank you for saving me."  Selene thought for a moment. "Smoke, a broom, a katz, house on a hill, and twin boys who want a tree house for a treat...does that mean I am the witch?"

"Ah, no. It's January and daytime and you're not wearing black," Lieutenant Broom said. Realizing he had put his foot in his mouth, he tried to make amends. "San Pedro is an old area, lots of potential for trouble when people have to fix up the old fire-traps they bought."

"You're the good witch if you sell them the house at the price they want to pay," the Captain said. He slapped Lieutenant Broom on the back. "Stay put, ma'am, and rest. We have to have you checked out."

"I'm not going anywhere until my friend gets here," Selene said, gesturing toward her driveway. "No car, no phone, just my red shoes..." Selene leaned back in the chaise. I hope they still want the house after they see the condition of the tree house, she thought.

And that's the truth. To some extent.

to be continued...  

Hearts and Houses for Sale: Blue Moon...

Selene woke at precisely 8:20 AM. The sound of her neighbors chatting about freeway conditions as they opened and closed their car doors told her it was Monday. The sun glittered through the windows landing directly on her face. Today, she would not be stuck in the Los Angeles Harbor traffic.

That was one of the big advantages of being a real estate agent. No one at the office clocked her in. With a jolt she sat upright. Monday morning, an impending sale from the open house--she should be at the office. 

Her whole body ached, her head hurt, and her fingers throbbed, The tight wrap around her ribcage  made sitting up especially painful. An 8:30 appointment with her selling coach couldn't be missed. Speed dial on the phone did the trick.

Fifteen minutes of "Oh, how terrible,"and "you have to be very careful," and "you can't afford to waste time on curious neighbors," and "it sounds like you handled things well,  and other professional responses brought the call to an end. Selene leaned back against the headboard, her stomach grumbled. "

Then she remembered. "Henry...Henry. Are you there, Henry?" she called. No response. He had left her on the sofa. How had she gotten into bed? Didn't he say he'd stay? She looked at herself in the mirror, grimaced, and twisted her hair away from her face. Inch by careful inch, she slid from the bed. Leaning on the door frame, the appearance of a disheveled drunk in the glass of the French doors frightened her. Still, she staggered into the living room. 

So much for Henry Powell, Selene surmised. I guess he wasn't that into me, after all. Good thing. Wouldn't want him to see me like this.

The phone rang. After the fifth ring, Selene decided she'd answer. Caller ID announced the name of a real estate agent she'd worked with before, and liked. Louise--and her boys--want to make an offer. 

"I'll be there in an hour," Selene said. "Did she tell you what happened?" The agent was sympathetic to a fault, but it took a five minute conversation to get it all said.  

Selene leaned against the kitchen counter as she made coffee. Plump, the fat cat, curled up beside his food bowl, which was thankfully still half full. 

"My ring finger is broken which means I'll probably never marry, and a rib cracked," she said to Plump. "I did meet a perfect man who left me on the sofa and disappeared. But, I might have sold the property." Selene dropped her head forward. It felt good.

"Why do the good ones leave," she said. "He was so handsome and nice." She paused and stared at the wall. "Hey Plump. Did I really tell him I needed to be alone?"

Plump looked up, then started to clean himself.

"I need to clean up, too, French bath today and lots of perfume," she said. Thanks goodness for wild-haired Louise and little boys who love tree houses. Plump slid his furry body around her feet. Where's my torn suit skirt, crossed her mind. The IPod on her clock/radio came on, "Blue Moon, you saw me standing alone without a dream in my heart..."

And that's the truth. To some extent.

to  be continued...

Cruisin' to Calm with Chris

So, I've been dreading this. Anticipating it for at least a month. We've been having unusually hot weather for this time of year here in sunny Southern California, and neither me nor my lady want to have a brawl.

However, She has made an appointment for me with the veterinarian today. In the name of peace and sanity I hope she has a simple plan. She tip-toed out to the garage first thing this morning, pulled down that big old grey heavy carrier from the top shelf, wiped it down inside and out, then put a few soft old ragtag pieces inside. 

I sprawled out across the top of the dryer while she kept her back to me so I wouldn't see what she was doing. She's really a love, so I take it all with a few bits of dry food. Here's hoping she sprays that old thing with the Feliway stuff. It's to me what a couple of glasses of wine is to her. Meeoouw.

So far, the day's not going well for us. The phone started ringing at 8 AM, seemed everybody had something important to talk to her about. I wanted my time, too, so clawed her yoga pants until she picked me up.  "Stop that, you'll rip them," she says, right before she picks me up. Works like a charm.

She tells everyone about the vet appointment. Has herself all worked up about it.  I'm saying to myself something along the lines of every thing's going to be fine, that vet likes me, I like him. He's a good bud. We're cool. 

It's cool on the kitchen floor. I think it's nap time. Ah, feels so good to stretch out. Wish she'd cool it. Every time she starts to get something done, she looks around to find me. What am I going to do? Run away. Only a dog would do that.

I'm going in her office, get away from her craziness. I can see myself in there, kind of up against the glass on the wall. I'm a good looking big silver dude, fur all nice and fluffy, eyes clear and so yellow, tail moving just how I like it.They don't call me Christopher Columbus for nothing. This is the last place she'll look for me.

Oh great, now she's got that new ear piece on her head. She's shouting to someone how she's got to get used to it. She'll get a ticket if she doesn't have it in the car. Blahblahblah. She's doing the multitasking stuff, never works for her. When will she learn to do one thing at a time, relax, take it easy. The woman thumps around this house like an elephant, too.

Here she comes. I've been found out. She's got that stupid black cat, Merlin, on her shoulder while she juggles the cell phone. Guess the ear piece isn't working. Hah! He moved, scratched her shoulder and she dropped him, phone too. Good thing there's carpet. Okay, so maybe, while she sits at the computer, I can get some peace and quiet.

That pile of papers over there looks like just the place for me. First, I think I"ll pad on over to her and jump on her lap. She'll even let me walk on the computer keyboard. Then I can knock the phone off the desk while I jump to the top of the bookshelf. It's cozy up there. Easy to fall asleep. 

What, what, what's going on. She's creeping down the hallway. Oh no, she's going to put that carrier box right out of my sight so she can slide me in there before I know what's up. Well, I'm not moving. How's she plan to get me down from here? Puuurrr...

I give, I give, don't want her to cry or break something getting me down. Isn't this too sweet. She scoops me up, slouching around like some thief in the night, hustling me into that thing. "It's okay, scrumptious," she coos. "I'm not going to let that mean old doctor do anything bad to you." I'm getting a shot, I just know it.

Maybe I'll kick the door with my back legs just for good measure, right before she closes it. That felt good. Feels pretty good in here, for a big plastic igloo. Why can't she get me something nice? Meow, meow meow. She's not listening.

The rest of this big ordeal goes one, two, three. "Hey Chris," the vet says as he hefts me out of that cage, "you're looking really good today." I want to kiss him, so I lick him. "Let's see how much you weigh."  I hate the weigh-in. If I'm a little over, she gets all worried and wants to change my food.  I like my food. It's always the same, agrees with me, and in the bowl. I won't eat it if she changes it. She should know that by now.

"Healthy," my Mr. Fine Vet says. "I'll be quick," he says to me or her, I'm never sure. So, it sticks and stings for a second. Big deal. I'm a big guy. "That's it for today," he says and rubs me right behind the ears." He is a really cool guy with really cool paws.

But, I'll be walking myself back in that carrier, thank you very much. Ready to go home now. A seconds worth of sting for me, a morning's worth of anxiety for her. 

Wish I could tell her my affirmation every day. Move toward my intention smoothly and easily, eat and nap and play. She sure did waste a lot of energy. Her third chakra needs attention. 

Since she can't purr, why doesn't she try humming?

Peace. 

Cruisin' to Calm with Chris

So, I've been dreading this. Anticipating it for at least a month. We've been having unusually hot weather for this time of year here in sunny Southern California, and neither me nor my lady want to have a brawl.

However, She has made an appointment for me with the veterinarian today. In the name of peace and sanity I hope she has a simple plan. She tip-toed out to the garage first thing this morning, pulled down that big old grey heavy carrier from the top shelf, wiped it down inside and out, then put a few soft old ragtag pieces inside. 

I sprawled out across the top of the dryer while she kept her back to me so I wouldn't see what she was doing. She's really a love, so I take it all with a few bits of dry food. Here's hoping she sprays that old thing with the Feliway stuff. It's to me what a couple of glasses of wine is to her. Meeoouw.

So far, the day's not going well for us. The phone started ringing at 8 AM, seemed everybody had something important to talk to her about. I wanted my time, too, so clawed her yoga pants until she picked me up.  "Stop that, you'll rip them," she says, right before she picks me up. Works like a charm.

She tells everyone about the vet appointment. Has herself all worked up about it.  I'm saying to myself something along the lines of every thing's going to be fine, that vet likes me, I like him. He's a good bud. We're cool. 

It's cool on the kitchen floor. I think it's nap time. Ah, feels so good to stretch out. Wish she'd cool it. Every time she starts to get something done, she looks around to find me. What am I going to do? Run away. Only a dog would do that.

I'm going in her office, get away from her craziness. I can see myself in there, kind of up against the glass on the wall. I'm a good looking big silver dude, fur all nice and fluffy, eyes clear and so yellow, tail moving just how I like it.They don't call me Christopher Columbus for nothing. This is the last place she'll look for me.

Oh great, now she's got that new ear piece on her head. She's shouting to someone how she's got to get used to it. She'll get a ticket if she doesn't have it in the car. Blahblahblah. She's doing the multitasking stuff, never works for her. When will she learn to do one thing at a time, relax, take it easy. The woman thumps around this house like an elephant, too.

Here she comes. I've been found out. She's got that stupid black cat, Merlin, on her shoulder while she juggles the cell phone. Guess the ear piece isn't working. Hah! He moved, scratched her shoulder and she dropped him, phone too. Good thing there's carpet. Okay, so maybe, while she sits at the computer, I can get some peace and quiet.

That pile of papers over there looks like just the place for me. First, I think I"ll pad on over to her and jump on her lap. She'll even let me walk on the computer keyboard. Then I can knock the phone off the desk while I jump to the top of the bookshelf. It's cozy up there. Easy to fall asleep. 

What, what, what's going on. She's creeping down the hallway. Oh no, she's going to put that carrier box right out of my sight so she can slide me in there before I know what's up. Well, I'm not moving. How's she plan to get me down from here? Puuurrr...

I give, I give, don't want her to cry or break something getting me down. Isn't this too sweet. She scoops me up, slouching around like some thief in the night, hustling me into that thing. "It's okay, scrumptious," she coos. "I'm not going to let that mean old doctor do anything bad to you." I'm getting a shot, I just know it.

Maybe I'll kick the door with my back legs just for good measure, right before she closes it. That felt good. Feels pretty good in here, for a big plastic igloo. Why can't she get me something nice? Meow, meow meow. She's not listening.

The rest of this big ordeal goes one, two, three. "Hey Chris," the vet says as he hefts me out of that cage, "you're looking really good today." I want to kiss him, so I lick him. "Let's see how much you weigh."  I hate the weigh-in. If I'm a little over, she gets all worried and wants to change my food.  I like my food. It's always the same, agrees with me, and in the bowl. I won't eat it if she changes it. She should know that by now.

"Healthy," my Mr. Fine Vet says. "I'll be quick," he says to me or her, I'm never sure. So, it sticks and stings for a second. Big deal. I'm a big guy. "That's it for today," he says and rubs me right behind the ears." He is a really cool guy with really cool paws.

But, I'll be walking myself back in that carrier, thank you very much. Ready to go home now. A seconds worth of sting for me, a morning's worth of anxiety for her. 

Wish I could tell her my affirmation every day. Move toward my intention smoothly and easily, eat and nap and play. She sure did waste a lot of energy. Her third chakra needs attention. 

Since she can't purr, why doesn't she try humming?

Peace. 

We were at a wedding shower...

...in Los Angeles having a great time when one of the six bridesmaid's announced her big day would be 8/8/08. 

"I love the idea of 8-8-8," she bubbled and cooed, reaching her long arms around me and bumping my forehead like we were making a toast. "I wasn't sure about this until today, and now it is just so clear to me," she added in that whirlwind way that spirals upward in its own vacuum and tunnel.

Her mother quietly beamed at her, then at me. The paucity of words made her glow that much more meaningful. This woman had lost her husband of nearly 3 decades only a year earlier following a protracted illness. She, herself, was ill although no one spoke about it. 

"I'm really happy, I think," the mother said after awhile. "I love where we live now. The sky is full of stars after dark, there are distinct seasons, it's really beautiful." She paused. Her breath so soft that nothing moved.  "It's good to start over, I've changed my name." 

A group hug and round of picture-taking shifted the mood back to party mode. The room rocked, more like bounced, with girlish giggling, oohs and aahs, and a familial competitive spirit as one game followed the other, winners announced and applauded, followed by short silly speeches. More giggling.

Strapless afternoon dresses swirled and long straight hair hung thick and groomed over straight bare shoulder, while these friends tried to remember what had been so important way back when they were in high school, even in grade school.

"The pomegranate tree, the pomegranate tree," someone shouted. 

"Do you remember the pomegranate tree in the school yard?" asked my dearest young friend who had just announced her wedding day. 

I shook my head. I really didn't.

"I do," her mother said. 

And that, I thought to myself, is what today is all about. 

"I do." 

We were at a wedding shower...

...in Los Angeles having a great time when one of the six bridesmaid's announced her big day would be 8/8/08. 

"I love the idea of 8-8-8," she bubbled and cooed, reaching her long arms around me and bumping my forehead like we were making a toast. "I wasn't sure about this until today, and now it is just so clear to me," she added in that whirlwind way that spirals upward in its own vacuum and tunnel.

Her mother quietly beamed at her, then at me. The paucity of words made her glow that much more meaningful. This woman had lost her husband of nearly 3 decades only a year earlier following a protracted illness. She, herself, was ill although no one spoke about it. 

"I'm really happy, I think," the mother said after awhile. "I love where we live now. The sky is full of stars after dark, there are distinct seasons, it's really beautiful." She paused. Her breath so soft that nothing moved.  "It's good to start over, I've changed my name." 

A group hug and round of picture-taking shifted the mood back to party mode. The room rocked, more like bounced, with girlish giggling, oohs and aahs, and a familial competitive spirit as one game followed the other, winners announced and applauded, followed by short silly speeches. More giggling.

Strapless afternoon dresses swirled and long straight hair hung thick and groomed over straight bare shoulder, while these friends tried to remember what had been so important way back when they were in high school, even in grade school.

"The pomegranate tree, the pomegranate tree," someone shouted. 

"Do you remember the pomegranate tree in the school yard?" asked my dearest young friend who had just announced her wedding day. 

I shook my head. I really didn't.

"I do," her mother said. 

And that, I thought to myself, is what today is all about. 

"I do."