Love, As Always, Pete

The Weekly Letters, by A. Pedersen Wood

August 20, 1997

Dear Everyone:

This week’s Letter is early because I will be spending all of this evening at an ARMA Board of Directors meeting (the things I get myself into). 

The week before last, I forgot to mention that there would be no Letter last week because we would be in Ashland, but you’ve probably figured that out by now. 

Our annual pilgrimage to the Oregon Shakespeare Festival was somewhat marred by the fact that, at the last moment, Mother couldn’t join us.  With “Alice” and “Kelly” pulling out earlier this summer (just because they had a baby, for gosh sakes!) and “Frankie’s” daughter “Liza” not coming after all, we had gone from seven people in three rooms to four in two to three in one.  What we lost in companionship, we saved in hotel accommodations. 

While we were in Ashland, “Jeannie” became enthralled with the saga of Babette and Allison, which appeared in both the California edition of the San Francisco Chronicle (75¢) and the Ashland paper (front page).  It seems that Babette, a two-pound, long-haired Chihuahua, traipsed out through her little doggy-door and pattered onto the patio where she was immediately gobbled up by a passing boa constrictor (Allison), who evidently mistook the patio for an hors d’oeuvre tray.  (I’m not making this up.  See attachment.) 

Of course it’s tragic, not only for the dog’s owner, but for the snake’s as well, who feels terrible about the “horrible, horrible accident” (the owner, I mean; we don’t really know about the snake).  As for Babette, who among us would not prefer to have RIP on our tombstone rather than SNACK.  Could even Shakespeare come up with anything so melodramatic, not to mention outlandish?  (By the way, they’re doing the Comedy of Errors again next year.) 

Meanwhile, back at home... 

At least two real estate agents have actually brought potential buyers into my place, both times when I wasn’t at home.  No known nibbles as yet.  The Realtors stress the importance of leaving all the lights on when a buyer might be by, so the place looks brighter and larger.   

This, of course, goes completely against my early training (“Turn the lights off when you leave a room.  Do you think money grows on trees?”).  So ingrained is it to turn the lights off when I’m not in the room that I have to consciously go back and turn them back on again.  I’ve discovered that leaving the lights on does make the place brighter.  It also leaves it much warmer.  So now I also have to run the air conditioning to cool things down again.  Can’t wait to see my next energy bill. 

And another thing.  Leaving the lights on means they burn out more quickly.  I’ve had to replace six bulbs in the past three weeks.  Needless to say, the bulbs go out at precisely the worst possible moment.  (“Sorry I’m late, Boss.  Had to climb a ladder and change the light bulbs before work this morning.”) 

Note to anyone else thinking of putting their house on the market in the near future:  Consider replacing all the bulbs at once.  With any luck, you’ll sell the place before they all go out at the same time. 

Love, as always, 

 

Pete

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