Tuesday, February 22, 2005

The t.p. mystery

Upon waking at 4:30 a.m. Saturday morning and peering sleepily out our living room window what do you suppose I saw dancing up in the trees?

Why toilet paper, of course!

As I later found out, I was gazing upon over 100 rolls glistening in the dazzling street lights. How did this profuse display of brilliance come to nestle among the branches of our trees? you ask. I would have concluded that a passing benevolent band of Canadian geese accidentally dropped their ... shall we say, personal papers ... on our trees if it hadn't been for our vigilant neighbor who spotted the culprits in the very act from 2:30 to 3:30. She observed three young males of various builds who boldly launched their unraveling rockets into the boughs of our trees in the light of their headlights. So this t.p. was deposited from below, not from above as I first suspected. The information provided by this witness was not conclusive enough to convict, but we have our ideas.

Here's a photo of their handiwork as seen in the morning light. We spent much of the morning improving our skills in t.p. removal. This line of work comes with it's own set of problems since it is quite a tricky business. One slightly wrong flick of the wrist will leave most of the t.p. waving down at you from on high.

No time to dilly-dally. The kids' string ensemble performance commenced at 1:00, and the music director, himself, would arrive at our house soon to pick up his daughter, Katie, who happened to be spending the night with us. Katie, the dear, jumped right in with the rest of us to clean up the mess.

I, being of sound mind, do report that the concert was outstanding, and you can trust my unbiased report even though I had two daughters and a son performing in it. You would have been amazed at the number of difficult pieces that were tackled and pulled off - royally! Such is the reward for attempting to play the more difficult great classical pieces - the gratifying sense of accomplishment one gets when one does a job well.

Now it's Tuesday and I'm penciling this blog while my English class is writing their timed essay. Finals week is here marking the end of the trimester. Two eleven week trimesters are gone putting us only a third of the year away from the end. Oh I have so much more I'd like to teach my students before summer cuts me off. ::sigh::


# 47 said...

Yeah, when speaking of faithful cleanup duty, you could mention how Amy went up and down the street picking up ugly white blobs once it rained.

On another side, it was quite poignant to come down the street and wonder if we were having a wedding or funeral with those wraithy white trees...

Feanor said...

Fun, fun. I wish I could of been there to help them..er I mean you with that job. :)

Shiloh said...

I'm not so sure you weren't, Evan.