Category: community

High times

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‘Hey, come over tonight Violet. The guy who’s bought my house is stopping by, you should meet him.’

I’ve been dreading meeting my new neighbour, conjuring up all these stories in my head. What if he’s obnoxious, noisy, has loud sex or is ugly.

I didn’t want to go.

But in the spirit of being a good citizen, and also a little curious, I said yes.

‘Okay thanks. I won’t stay long though, I have a deadline.’

Deadlines are always my excuse to get out of something.

Mom, is there anything for dinner?
Oops I have a deadline.

Let’s go on a date.
Oops I have a deadline.

Are we ever gonna have sex again Violet.
Oops I have a deadline.

Anyway, I had a shower, threw on some clothes, a little lipstick and popped over with a bottle of wine in hand.

It was noisy inside. My soon to be neighbour had brought his friends with him.

‘Which one is he?’ I gestured to my current neighbour.

‘In the garden. He’s the one in pink.’

I went outside.

‘So we can plant here,’ I heard him saying.

‘If we take out these bushes we can have a large crop.’

‘Check the light, woohoo, bumper crop coming our way.’

‘Hiya,’ I said, in my neighbourly way. ‘Nice to meet you, I’m Violet.’

‘Oh hi Violet, heard so much about you, we’re going to be next door, well I am, I’ve bought the house, but hey, these are my friends, they spend a lot of time with me.’

I leaned in to shake everyone’s hands. Four guys. One girl. All gorgeous and beautifully dressed.

And very friendly.

And very gay.

No prospective lovers for me in this lot.

But they were really cool and I was glad I’d come over, cleaned up, made a bit of an effort.

We sat down. These things are always a little awkward in the beginning.

‘So you’re into gardening,’ I said, thinking of the conversation I’d overheard. ‘That’s cool. We can swap veggies over the wall.’

They were all super enthusiastic.

‘Yay fantastic brilliant excellent, darling.’

‘We have good soil,’ I carried on. ‘My vegetables kind of take care of themselves, like there are bodies buried in the garden or something.’

They all looked pleased as punch.

‘What do you grow Violet?’

‘Bit of everything. Tomatoes, spinach, strawberries. Giant aubergines. You?’

‘We grow marijuana. We farm it.’

Oh.

Right.

You know when you make a total fool of yourself?

I made a total fool of myself.

I launched into every little dagga story I’ve ever had including cookies that I ate once by mistake, other cookies that my housekeeper had eaten by mistake, the joint I took on a hike and hid in my socks and then lost my socks, and oh god I called it dagga and nobody calls it dagga anymore, it’s weed, it’s cannabis, it’s marijuana, Violet why don’t you just shut up sometimes, they grow fucking marijuana they don’t need your silly stories from a hundred years ago.

‘Are you gonna have a meth lab too?’ I asked.

‘Maybe,’ they laughed.

I laughed too.

Hahahahahahahahaha.

They asked me what I did.

‘I write about sex,’ I told them. ‘Sometimes I also have it.’

‘Like an escort agency? You’re a hooker? A sex worker?’

Oh god, this was not going well.

No no, but sex and sex toys and men and women and I was blabbering like crazy again.

They were looking at me.  Quizzically.

‘Oops I have a deadline,’ I said.

I left.

They grow marijuana.
They may have a meth lab.
They think I’m a hooker.
I used the words dagga.
I made a total fool of myself.

I’m gonna miss my old neighbours.

Still. It’s gonna be great.

New people in the hood.

Marijuana.

Maybe a little meth.

We’re gonna get high.

Welcome!

Thank god I’ve met my deadlines.

Give that girl a Bells

I’ve written about my dog Scarlet before, the mad one who likes to swim. Yesterday we had another drama.

I was with her for a run and a swim at 9 am.  Around 5 pm  I wrote this post on a community Facebook page.

At the park today my dog Scarlet went swimming. She’s done it before, goes in for an hour, gets into a zone, doesn’t hear anyone or anything and won’t come out. Today she swam and swam, went into the reeds and disappeared. I looked everywhere. No Scarlet. After a few hours I came home, frantic, sunburned, exhausted, told my kids the bad news, dropped off my other dogs, and went back. And there I found a woman, Karin VDL, covered in mud and gunk, with my dog. She had found her. RESCUED HER. Karin had gone into the water. Other people helped. Hippies, parents, children, picnickers, dog lovers, grannies and grandpas. And other dogs. Everyone was rooting for her. I cannot say thank you enough, thank you thank you thank you.’

The response from the community was astonishing. Everyone so glad my dog was okay, everyone supportive. She’d been found, brilliantly camouflaged, stuck in the reeds on an island in the middle of the dam.  Exhausted.  Hot.  Alive.

Karin is getting a bottle of whisky from me tomorrow, as well as a huge bunch of flowers and the biggest hug. The community pulled together in the most extraordinary way, and I just gotta say, I felt overwhelmed.  Some stripped down and tried to swim to her.  It’s a tricky dam to swim in. Others had tried to coax her back. Karin eventually reached her.

And one man had managed to photograph her and put her pic on social media.

Astonishing group effort and people are so kind.

BUT NONE OF THAT IS WHY I AM WRITING, although I will be forever grateful to all these people.

My dog is a celebrity. Her Facebook post has had thousands of likes. Her photograph and her story have been shared so many times.

My dog is more popular than me.

That is it.

My dog is more popular than me.

And I am very very happy about it.

We’re on the bed and she’s asleep at my feet and now the only thing I want is to fall in love with one of the gorgeous men who shared her picture.

There were quite a few.

Thanks Karen.  Thanks Guys.

Vote for Scarlet.  She’s entering a beauty pageant next week.

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