There is no other way to say it, but say it how it is and the sad truth be, this: Dragon has got it into her head that she's moving to New Hampshire. The excuse be that she be tired of people asking what exit she lives off, the traffic on the Garden State is horrendous, too many people, and the weather has changed to a state of drastic. So, time to move!
As this news was sinking into me numb denying brain, I piped up in a squeaky sulking voice, "Why not move to Colorado?"
"Colorado? What's in Colorado?" The Dragon's voice was incredulous.
"Uh . . . R. Linda?" I squeaked.
"Who is R. Linda?" She asked getting annoyed at me.
"Me muse." I said.
Her eyes narrowed and she looked at me like she had no time for me. She waved a hand at me in dismissal. If she had a wand in it, I am sure she'd have reduced yours truly to frog status, ah-ribbit!
"But why?" I moaned to me wife as Dragon left the room.
"Because it is pretty here." She answered, using me own words to describe where I live right back at me.
"Woe is yours truly." I whined.
That was enough for her to get up and leave for more coffee in the kitchen, where the Dragon was busy depanning muffins. It was only me and me Mam in the den. She was sitting looking down at the floor, teacup balanced precariously in her lax fingers, she sighed heavily and I knew she was thinking the same thoughts I was. WHY?
I whispered to her that I was not happy about this development. She sighed back, nodding. Kindred spirits we two, sitting there trying to think how to stop the woman, but neither of us wanted to send our thoughts there. Too much work.
"I knoo," Mam said in a low voice, "you and me will move to Colorado."
"Oh yeah sure, and leave Tonya and the kiddos at the mercy of the dragon lady. We can't do that and if we even hinted at doing that, the Dragon would surround them with legal waggons and we wouldn't stand an arrows chance of getting them out of there."
"Wot?" Mam said looking at me like I had just spoken a string of Chinese.
I got up and paced from one end of the house to the other. As I came pacing by me mam, who was still sitting where I left her, she pulled at me sleeve and I bent down to hear her whisper, "At least she isn't moving in! In here with us."
I stood up and well yes, yes that was true and there were no homes next to us for sale, though there was one down the way. Oh boy, just down the road, way too close.
"I can see wot yer tinkin'. Dat hoose down da rood." Me mother's Irish was becoming thick as her nerves got more scrambled.
"Its big, it would fit all her fumily in it, she would be within walking distance and she could lord it over er' former neighbours in Jersey that she bought another giant hoose! A giant hoose not far from er' beloved dotter and er' kiddos."
|Yup, antique colonial, Currier and Ives, goes back into the woods, BIG enough for a Dragon lair!|
"We must stop this!" I said louder than I meant to. But I was in a panic I was. What to do?
Me mam stuck a finger in the air like she was testing for a breeze. I stopped and bent down as she whispered, "YOU must buy dat big hoose. Dat way she can't live dat cloose."
"With what me good looks?" I asked actually entertaining the idea -- that is how desperate I was getting.
"Noo, I will give ye wot ya need." Me mam said nodding. And she was serious, and I be thinking she doesn't have that kind of money. But if she did . . . no, I couldn't but I was sorely tempted. It be true the woman has no sense of what real estate in this country costs, compared to Ireland where everything to someone here would seem a bargain!
Meanwhile, as if me day couldn't get any worse I get this cryptic invite from the Weasil, asking me to fly to Scotland for the annual haggis hunt. Now there be no creature such as a haggis, it be a sheep bladder stuffed with entrails and oatmeal that be cooked and served up with potatoes and turnips and lots of strong whiskey. But for some reason he has got it into his head that it isn't a sheep bladder filled with things most people would not eat, but the finished product comes from a kind of rabbit like creature (a large hare actually) with horns like a reindeer. He even has one mounted in his trophy room. Yes, he has a trophy room! I mean who doesn't? Oi.
|Courtesy Museum of the Weird|
Yes, THIS is what the Weasil thinks is a haggis in the wild
I did wonder if the childhood memory the Dragon-in-law often regaled me kiddos about was still standing. She told us stories about a place in Hamburg, New Jersey called the Gingerbread Castle, where she was taken as a kid for a tour of the witches castle and upon conclusion, a helping of fresh baked gingerbread with lots of whipped cream. THAT is the place for her. I just know it is. But alas, I was told it does not stand very firmly BUT I think it's for sale! If only I could get those fond memories of her early witchhood flowing, she might go back and buy the place. YES that's it!
|Is this perfect or what?|
After an hour of worrying, I called the Realtor who sold me my abode. I told her Dragon was going to ring her about house viewings and to not show her anything in me neighbourhood. She laughed. I didn't share her amusement I can tell ya that much! After more hemming and hawing as they say in Vermont, I got a "I'll see what I can do" out of her. I was not encouraged, but I pushed on with the request, could she put a sold sign on the house sign just down the road from me? I already knew Dragon had seen the for sale sign, so maybe . . . no, that couldn't be done because if a buyer was out riding around and saw that house then they wouldn't bother and Mrs. Realtor would be out a sale. SIGH. Besides, she said, that house has been vacant for two years and they'd like to sell it. Oh and by the way, the price on it has come way down. Oh great just the news I didn't want to hear, but then wait -- maybe me mam COULD afford it! How much was it I asked, and the answer was still too pricy.
So I be sitting here dreading the day Dragon comes swooping in on her broomstick to inform us she's found a house. Not just any house, but the one up the road. Eee-yeh. Though I did try to head that off at the pass (as they say in Colorado) and told her, "Yeah I looked at that house, it was filled with fleas, seems former owner had two mastiffs and they were full of fleas." That little nugget made her eyes open wide until me own wife had to interject that we never looked at that house it was much too big and expensive. Thanks Tonya! So I quickly jumped in and said, "I heard that's why it hasn't sold."
Oh yeah, that went over like a lead balloon (like they say in New Jersey) and that was that for now. Any ideas you might have to stop the Dragon lady from moving here, AND looking at homes close to me own would be much appreciated. Meanwhile, I be contemplating that invite to Scotland. Thinking I could get lost in the Highlands for months or years. I could live in the haunted castle that Weasil went ghost hunting in, me mam could smuggle the wife and kiddos up there and the Dragon would wonder what magic trick made us all disappear. I know I be off on a panicked tangent (without the excuse of spicy food). So would you if you had the Dragon lady's shadow about to loom over your house for the rest of your life.
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