two dolla

even thought i’m scared of them

After moving Matt and Jenni this past weekend and realizing how awesome their backyard is going to be for a whole bevy of things, I realized having a yard might just be a-okay. All the corners to put lawn chairs and fall asleep in the middle of the afternoon and all of the trees to hang birdfeeders from… it made me a little misty eyed. And really, it was just because I want a hummingbird feeder like this one:

When I was a kid, my grandparents used to have one of these hanging on their porch from their “lake house”. My grandpa, if he was finished banging around in his workshop (shed) all day, would put on a red-hooded sweatshirt and stand with his nose about 2 inches away from the feeder. He’d wait… and wait… and wait. Until finally a tiny little hummingbird would come up and get a drink of the sugar water my grandma had made, and then fly within centimeters of my grandpa’s eyes. I always wanted to try it, but I never had the patience he did.

And while I’m entirely scared of larger birds that have beaks big enough to poke my cute little blue eyes out, I’m totally down with supplying sweetened water to tiny little hummingbirds that don’t really ever stop moving long enough to jab my pupils out with their tiny beaks.

csi: uptown minneapolis

We were in bed last night, close to midnight, trying to fall asleep. I was just about to doze completely off, when we heard these blood curdling screams coming from the house next to us. It wasn’t like a “Oh, help, you’re tickling me and I want you to stop”; it was a “OH MY GOD WHY ARE YOU KILLING ME?” type of screen. So, we called 911.

The cops came, complete with 3 squad cars, and eventually arrested someone that appeared to have been fleeing the scene. Before you get too worried, it wasn’t some random murderer. It was a man, and we’re not really sure what his connection is becuase we’d never seen him there before. There’s a lady that lives there, and the three dogs that bark all the damn time, which have resulted in two calls to the police. And there’s a somewhat nice guy that’s usually there anytime there are little kids there. So, really, we’re not sure of the connection. We just know their dogs’ names. We’re those kinds of neighbors.

Anyway, two of the police cars roll away and the one that’s left has Trashy McGee in the back of the car. I’m peering out the window, because my last name is Berry, and that’s just what we do in my family. The two leftover cops were talking to Trashy, and I could only hear bits and pieces of it. The only bit that stuck in my head: “I just know she loves me and I love her and there’s nothing left to argue about”. Mmm. That’s true love.

I kept The General up for a solid hour while I ran between the bedroom window and the kitchen window, wearing my glasses, a dark colored hoodie, and wielding a stick that’s normally used to pull our vertical blinds back and forth. The lights were naturally all of, because surely the cops couldn’t see my tiny frame popping back and forth between windows spying on their every move.

Shortly before I had to go to sleep (or quite possibly get kicked out of my own apartment), one cop (which I was calling Calleigh Duquesne) was on the phone with… I don’t know? Headquarters? Telling them what was going down, and that’s right about the time I learned the other cop’s name was McKenna. They dug around the trunk looking for something, which we assumed was an instruction manual on what to do now that they had someone in handcuffs and in the back of the car.

Calleigh Duquesne came into the apartment building a couple of times. We’re assuming it was because someone else had called the police and requested that they be informed of what was going on. I, on the other hand, told the friendly 911 operator that I didn’t care so much. And MAN, am I regretting that now.

Photo Cards

Stephanie and I had a date that involved bowling, bleeding into bowling balls, and crispy chicken flautas on Sunday. We talked a lot about Christmas, because HEY, IT’S LESS THAN 2 WEEKS AWAY. And we talked about my potential Photo Cards that I must send out, especially after last year’s turned out so incredibly cute and/or cheesy. Stephanie’s agreed to be my professional photographer this year, so now I have to figure out which of all of my clothes matches Riley the best. I don’t think it’s a wise idea for me to ever have children, because if I make this big of a deal out of a Riley/Wendy holiday picture, I can’t imagine the amount of time I’ll put into a whole gigantic family picture type of thing. Matching Christmas sweaters sound like an easy solution, though.

I realized last year that people really love photo cards! I don’t know how many emails and cards I received in return with people going on and on about them. It was kind of painfully adorable, which definitely means I have to do it again. In my advanced years, I get excited about painfully adorable pictures of my dog and I.

We also talked a lot about a surprise Christmas gift for The General, which I was so excited about when I thought it up, I almost peed myself. Now I just have to figure out how to execute it. Last time I was in a relationship over Christmas, I didn’t get anything from the person I was with and I only ended up giving a long sleeved t-shirt from Old Navy and possibly a DVD or a gift certificate to Pizza Hut. Oh, how things have changed.