Chris and I are still living with Dixie in Denham Springs and since I'm still only an observer of outside life, my world consists of the few houses surrounding us and the school next door. I've learned that there aren't a lot of city ordinances in place, so you can get away with some interesting things. For instance, Monday night the LSU tigers won their game sparking a lot of enthusiasm amongst the neighbors--at 3AM, in the form of bottle rockets and other psychedelic fire works. Good times. They settled down around 5AM, presumably to get some beauty sleep.
Another neighbor has been burning leaves and assorted trash in their backyard. As far as I know, this is allowed within city limits. Unfortunately, I think there were a few chemicals in the mix because my lungs have been burning and I've been dealing with congestion. It's the same sensation as smoking too many cigarettes in a short period of time. I made the mistake of stepping outside, only to have to go right back in because of the amount of smoke in the air. Eventually someone called the fire department and a truck showed up.
The next door neighbor is currently burning leaves in his back yard. I gave up smoking years ago and I feel like I've been smoking 3 packs a day. This can't be good for the baby stem cells, but there isn't a lot to be done for it. Should I send out a flyer politely asking people to disrupt their lives because I can't handle a little smoke?
I just don't think some people understand that their actions directly impact others, and I'm not just talking about this instance. Last week the next door neighbor came over asking for a thermometer. Not a big deal, except I was the one who answered the door and he thought he had pneumonia. Are you kidding? If you thought you had pneumonia, wouldn't you call someone to take you to the hospital or a clinic? Wouldn't it occur to you that you might infect other people? The horror. Chris rushed past me, closing the door on the way. He provided the thermometer, explaining that I couldn't be around anyone in his condition because of mine; i.e., keep the thermometer. The genius came back a few hours later to return the thermometer. Isn't that like trying to return a used toothbrush? Has my point of view become skewed? The whole tragedy of the situation is that he was on the phone with someone the entire time giving him advice on what to do. Okay, I'll admit that I don't view this guy in the most charitable light since he threatened to kill Dixie's cat. Sue me.
Carrying on in the vein of strange happenings, the baby boy that I've become is addicted to peanut butter. I've begun craving it everyday which is really strange because before my transplant I would have chosen raw Brussels sprouts over peanut butter any day. I just didn't care for it. Now I can't live without it. Maybe I have some sort of vitamin deficiency.