Sober Sunday

No, I don't mean I haven't been drinking. Although I haven't been. I have been trying to figure out what to write for one of Wendy's Small Town Sunday Snapshot posts. When I review the past week, the only thing I can think of is the murder last Monday, and that is not a typical post subject.

But, there you have it. An 80 year old woman was found dead in her bed, and her son, who lived with her, has been arrested for murder. He says she was alive when he left at 3 AM. I realize that terrible things happen every minute, in towns all over, but it's true what all those neighbors always say. "Nobody would think he would kill anybody. He was quiet, a bit 'slow'."

This is a small town, population approximately 4000, and although we moved here in 1987, we certainly don't know everyone, or even half of everyone. I didn't know the victim, but did know her son. Neither drove, so he could often be seen walking the 3 or 4 miles to the library, where he signed up for computer time to look up Star Trek information. The past few years he worked at the transfer station, where he was very diligent about who threw what where. He was not one of the people who would let you dump a little stuff in the demolition trailer without a fee. We tried to bypass him when possible.

The neighbors said they knew something was wrong when the shades weren't up by 7:30 and the wash wasn't out on the line. Their house looks very neat and tidy behind the yellow police tape. The judge ordered psychiatric and psychological testing, and I expect he may be found not competent to be tried in court. I think if it were my family involved I would hope that would be the case. Because how terrible would it be if a sane person did that?

So, I am sorry for the Debbie Downer story, and I hope that writing this will let it slip to the back of my mind. Also hoping for a much better week coming up.

Small town Sunday attempt

Wendy at On The Front Porch hosts Small Town Sundays and I am attempting to join in, but I am not sure I will be able to handle the linky part, we shall see.

Our day went smoothly today- mostly. We put up a small shed we had been planning, and all of the measurements and angles came out right. Yay for math.... and measuring at least twice and cutting once.

During one break, I startled J by looking behind him and doing a doubletake- He thought something was ready to pounce, but it was just our neighbor's huge goofy black lab. He was so happy to have us say hello, and offer to walk him home down the hill. His owner was grateful- the dog had been gone an hour and he had driven by several times looking for him. J just thought he was being friendly, waving each time he saw him go by.

Later we turned our dogs loose in the pasture, hoping Rosie would not take off to the woods. She was very good, and thank goodness no turkeys or deer showed up to lead her astray. They found some feathers to chew on, plus a little grass here and there, and came to us to go back in. I am sure this good behavior was just a fluke.


It's nice to have a day that goes pretty much as planned. The only part that was not so smooth was J's haircut, which I do. It is not as simple as mine, since he has a 'regular' men's haircut- you know parted and combed over to one side. It's always a pleasant surprise when I get the curve right over his forehead- sometimes it's too short, etc. So, when he got up I saw that it was still too long right in front. Instead of having him sit down again, I reached up with little sharp pointy scissors to trim it, hoping I didn't poke him in the eyeball. Suddenly he bent his knees and I thought it was to see the TV and got mad because I did almost jab him. He got mad because I was and stomped off to the mirror. We each explained why we snapped and storm was over. They pass much more quickly now than in years past! It would be nice to think we have matured, but it could be it's not worth the energy to fight.

Anyway, that was our Sunday- not much about our small town, but I have been stressing about the linking, and hope to do better next week.