The saga continues. Friday after dropping off something to Linda on
Ave., we followed a black truck over the bridge,
hoping to find one or two more blue bottles. The black-truck-man turned
into the driveway that belongs to the area where the blue gin bottles are
found. There was a pitbull in the truck with the driver. We
continued on our way up Carr Ave.
where we turned around and headed back toward Carpenteria. One look at
this man and you knew ~ a). he is not a blue bottle gin drinker
(b). it would NEVER occur to him to try and hide these blue bottles.
This is a kick butt and take names kind of guy. There would not be just
one or two blue bottles there would be a boatload of them.
Okay. Now I feel like crap ~ (a) because I thought it was a man and now I think it's a woman drinking these little blue gin bottles and it doesn't seem as funny any more (b) I'm taking great delight in finding these bottles when someone may actually have a problem. This is a whole different picture, not one that I'm very proud of. Why didn't this occur to me before? Why when I thought it was a man, it was funny, but now that I think it's a woman, not so funny any more. If it's not a problem, someone wouldn't be sneaking around, throwing little blue bottles away in the weeds.
It's really the pits when you bring the "pin to pop the balloon" to your own party. It’s all part of the journey though. Many a time when I have started down a path and not ended up where I thought I was going and this is one of them. If I hadn’t started, I never would have had my blue bottle tree and all of you along for the journey. Thanks for being there.
I'm thinking of giving up writing and going into real estate!