Carl phoned me once more. Carl calls me all the time. I hope someone takes Carl's telephone away. He says "Hail." He says that then silence. With Carl a pattern has formed.
We-Carl. others less prone to call-live in a small, quaint row of homes. Everyone knows each other and Carl holds that this closeness, this accidental nearness is reason to take control of communication like he's the most affable Napoleon in history.
So what did Carl have to say today? Happily he tells me to come by his place; he had something very exciting to show me. Excuses bounce off Carl like he's superman. I went to Carl's home
Carl's accommodations are as loud as Carl's temperament. Consecrating the start of spring he's displaying a fifteen foot tall, decorative groundhog. Gaudy, swaying, it welcomes me as I head towards his front door. The best neighbor ever pops out his door before I am able to ring the doorbell. grabbing my shoulder he back towards his front lawn. Carl stares upward. I look up. My mind is the saddest blank canvas and Carl is the happy painter. This should be interesting.
"Do you see that?" No. "It's my new gutter cover." Fantastic. "It's awesome". He tells me the cover stops garbage from building up, which limits how often I have to clear it." And Carl, finally, was actually onto something.
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