Why is He Here Today?

Why is he here today?

I don't want him here if he's not here to stay, to live, to sleep, to
love.

He came to sweep the bamboo leaves and culm sheathes off of the front
steps, to spend a bit more time cleaning my floors, to clear
spiderwebs out of corners, and to momentarily enjoy the quiescence of
my tree-enshrouded self.

I'm glad though that he'll be leaving soon, unable to clear all the
glistening spiderwebs from the upper branches of the hemlocks, unable
to nap on a bed under my ceilings, unable to enjoy fresh cool water
from my pipes. If he won't live here with his family, or release me
into the care of a fellow human, then I don't want him or anybody here
to interrupt my silent contemplation amidst the constant late-summer
leg-rubbing buzz of the wonderful crickets.

Good. His sweeping's done, he's priming to depart, mail picked up,
steps swept, spiders re-spinning.

Silver silence for me.

..HF.

Sent from my iPhone

Tilting bamboo scaffold

Catharsis - Was that Good for You?

Was that good for you?

Did you get it out of your system with that primal scream?

Was laughter the best medicine for you?

Are the tears in your eyes from the passage of something monstrous?

Within my walls, no sound escapes, so let it out, let it all hang out.

Those newer homes with paper-thin walls, they've nothing on me with layers of plaster, timbers and thick siding. Granted, I'm not brick or stone, like some of those older homes, but my walls tell no secrets. Now, blast your Rachmaninov through six-foot speakers...and your neighbors will hear it. :-)

..HF.

Ahhh, That Felt Good.

My owner came by last Sunday. He trimmed some privet shrubs, lopped a few branches from trees, and cut the grass.

He loves the periodic need to trim down the privets... they're such an easy plant to shape and yet such an easy plant to let go, to allow to become unsightly, straggly and unkempt.

The hemlocks are such graceful conifers, with tiny little needles an soft foliage... but they can take over the scene in few short years. Where did they all come from? Did he really plant all those trees?

Ahhh, that feels much better - like a summer haircut. Now I can see further around me during the day, see more of the bamboo that shades the far side of the yard, and see that nice little house next door with the Victorian shades of green.

..HF.

Whirl Magazine

Have you seen any recent print editions of Whirl Magazine?

Whirl is a Pittsburgh magazine about the people and their places here in the Pittsburgh region. Their places include their homes (!), their restaurants, their sporting events and their social events.

Oh, social events.

As a structure with a foundation, I don't get out to many social events; and being a small house in a working-class neighborhood, my owners down through the decades haven't hosted many soiree's. They've enjoyed their single-malts, cabernets and pale ales, but only with a few select friends at a time. So the odd magazine left in my rooms have been my sole entre into the greater world of glamour, fashion, haute couture and other houses with more than six rooms.

Ah, that's the thing that caught my eye: Whirl has tons of advertisements showcasing my larger, more recent or more presentable brethren. "Residential communities", like the Village at Palmer Place, on up to $1.8M mansions of Shadyside. I'm able to dream beyond my single dormer roof, beyond my single central staircase, beyond my gravel driveway. :-)

..HF.

My Back Porch Used to Be My Front

Actually, the back was never the front, but it was designed to be. The back porch is where the ornamental woodwork was installed, constructed around the porch area as if that's where the horseless carriages were intended to pull up to the house. But, alas, the road behind me was never laid out, never made into a passable thoroughfare, so the alleyway off of which my driveway runs is now the street from which people approach me.

This neighborhood is and has always been a workers community... coal miners (these hills were thick with small mines), steelworkers, landscapers, computer admins and healthcare workers. All the colors of the Pittsburgh region. I'm what I like to call a workers hillside house: tall, narrow, on a steep hill; lots of steps. When people approach me from down the hill, climbing all those steps, they don't see the ornamental front, they see a moderately plebeian front...with lots more steps up to a basement-level front door.

..HF.

I Wanna New Human

I wanna new human. I cannot tell you how badly.

Well, okay, I can.

I want a new human to wake up inside me every morning,
to run water through my pipes regularly,
to make human smells and aromas permeate the air,
to slam my windows shut just before a summer deluge and
to periodically slam my doors when she feels angry.

I wanna new human, and I want 'em soon.

..HF.