Thanks to Sina P from LC Overhead Doors for fixing my garage door, which has been broken for more than a month. Quick, easy and not pricey, very nice.
No thanks to the people who have driven by my house for the last month. I understand that a garage door, half-opened, is a signal to suburbanites that the couple in that house is ready to swing. I never told my wife about this, because I was really looking forward to her waking me up in a panic one night when swingers rang the doorbell. It never happened. I guess it’s just a Stittsville thing.
No thanks to the uber-aggressive guy who tried to force me into having his company take care of the weed problem on my lawn. I tried to explain to him that I really, truly, didn’t care at all about weeds. And that I had absolutely no interest in having a nice looking lawn. But he was like a dog with a bone, and he wasn’t letting go. He seemed genuinely devastated that someone would have no interest in having a golf-green quality front lawn. But I don’t hang out on my front lawn. I had to take a quote from him and a bunch of papers just to get him off my porch. And lawn.
Big thanks to that guy’s company for never following up with me.
My lawn borders on a fairly large patch of city property, where my lawn mower won’t reach. Thanks to the city for mowing some of my weeds, finally.
Thanks to the G20 security detail who released that artists’ depiction of the “possibly Mediterranean” guy who bought all that fertilizer. National manhunts are always exciting. And when they end with that guy walking into a police station 30 minutes later, where it turns out he’s – gasp – a farmer, then national manhunts are hilarious.