Sean came over and tore down the railings around the deck. Actually, they fell off from rot. Nice. So most of the wisteria is now lying on the grass. That's ok because wisteria is impossible to get rid of. Impossible. Next, he'll tear off the whole thing and rebuild. We'll have an 'outdoor area' where we can eat breakfast under the apple tree and read the paper and eye the garden to the sounds of chickens clucking and the imaginary poodles romping.
Today is rapture day. Huh, I'm still here and so is my tenant. That's no surprise because she has frequent loud sex with a variety of boys. And I'm busy today because I have a mom in labor so I'd have to rapture after the baby is born and it might be too late. I think the whole neighborhood is still here. Our zip is 98118, the most diverse hood in the country. I think heaven is mostly white people so we're not going anywhere soon, except to see if there are any empty houses with wide screen tvs and leetle cans of gourmet foods, olives, fig preserves for Rebecca and fancy olive oil. Oh, and my neighbor's old Chevy. Although they're godless heathens. I'm a Buddhist so technically I don't even have a religion. Nobody prays to the Buddha. That would be silly. I guess I'm an atheist.
The garden is beautiful. Like a fool, I agreed to be in the garden show this year (again). It's in July, when the garden looks like poop; no flowers, hot and dry. Except maybe this year it will rain ETERNALLY so the plants will be sparkly.