Mandy's Movie Nite

When I first met Mandy, a relative newcomer at ND, I thought, Hmmm, wouldn't it be great if she'd have a regular movie nite at her spacious Willow Grove home w/gardens out back including 3 splashing fountains.

Luckily for us, Mandy had the very same idea. We arrived in droves on Friday nite. We watched the hilariously obnoxious film The Hangover. Mike Tyson, the fabulous soft-spoken crazed prizefighter made a brilliant cameo performance. We got to see the inside of his Vegas home.

For me the hit of the party was the watermelon Tom brought. He got it at a ShopRite in NE Philly near where he lives.

So, after Scott and I went on a Pennypack nature walk this afternoon, we drove over to Harry Mitchell's Shop n Bag in Bethayres where I bought cut-up slices and chilled em till they were cold enuf to eat.

We do love our watermelon!

What? You've discovered there ain't no Mitchell's Shop n Bag? That's b/c I made up the name for my novel. That's where Mollie buys most of her groceries, putting em in a canvas bag, of course, to conserve on trees.

I based good ole Harry on the cashier David, who calls everyone ma'am (yuk!)but I'm not wearing my namebadge or tattoo no's from the Nazis, but in the book he knows Mollie by name. David did share w/me that he has a schizophrenic brother living in a group home in Germantown.

I wrote a bit about his brother, who I named Gene, and based him on a star athlete I played volleyball with who graduated from Abington High School and then lost everything when he was diagnosed. I gave Gene an illustrious career as a football star at Syracuse before his fall from schizophrenia.

This is among the worst diseases god ever invented. Well, the chick pea disease in the previous post isn't much fun either.

Last nite I was pretending to be dead. They say the dead visit you. I was trying to decide who to visit. After Simon died, my computer wouldn't work right. After my dad died, I had a week full of dreams about him. Usually when the dead visit you they're not particularly nice to you. They shake you up. When my electrologist Lorraine died she came under the door to say hello cuz my bedroom door was closed.

Rodica said to me, Why would she come under the door? She's a spirit and would come thru the door.

Always end with a pleasantry. When we got to the top of the hill, we saw bluebirds, real bluebirds, swirling around the fence, dipping and darting. They have a distinctive spurting motion. Then we saw a hawk high in the air and more bluebirds were attacking the hawk and sending him off beyond the clouds.

Quite a spectacle. Another couple came up the path. "We were just escorted off the meadow by some darting bluebirds," I said, "who was afraid we'd bother their chicks," I said, pointing to the bluebird house.

After talking awhile to the couple, I learned that we had indeed seen a bluebird or two, but the majority of birds we saw were Swallows, or a Kingbird.

I'm fairly sure the couple Scott and I saw were homo sapiens, but who knows? Hard to trust my eyes.

And, did you hear about dark matter? Dark energy? What we know of the cosmos is only four percent of the actual reality. 96 percent is still out there unseen and called dark matter.

During my next hangover, or, psychotic episode, I'll posit some theories about dark matter.