Fun

 “Are we having fun yet?”

The question floats across the neighborhood as I walk down Downer Street. “Nothing like a drought to start all the fun, right?”

Did I hear this second question right? A drought starts fun? How could that be? A drought may be a lot of things: worrisome, dangerous, scary, but fun?

            I don’t think so.

            As I approach the spot where the questions came from, I see a group gathered in front of a house where landscaping is being done. Earlier in the month, I’d noticed one of those mini bulldozers digging up the dead lawn. Now, as I draw near, I see that the lawn is gone and in its place is a pretty little drought-resistant landscaping.

            This must be what the fun is all about.

            Of course, I stop and talk to the group, hollering at the one man, who must be the DroughtScaper. “Hey! I need to do that to my dead lawn!”

            One of the women laughs, “Us too! We all want to get rid of our dead lawns.”

            As I pause, I take in the group gathered around the landscaper’s truck. He’s leaning on it, tall, dark and handsome. I’ll hire him, I think to myself. Then 3 women of various heights, ages and sizes circle around him.

            “Do you have a card?” I ask Handsome Landscaper. He nods and disappears for a moment into his truck.

            “I see you walking around here all the time,” one of the women comments to me. She’s very tall and slender with Mary Tyler Moore slacks and a brown bob haircut. “Do you live around here?”

            “Yeah, I just live over on 32^nd. I’m Carol,” I offer.

            Tall Woman introduces her neighbors, rattling off their names in a too-fast-for me-to-remember list.

            One of the women, with a tangle of grey and black hair, holds a little dog.

    

        “And who is this?” I ask.

            “OH! This is Mr. Doodles.”

            “Hello, Mr. Doodles.” In vain, the dog wriggles to get out of her arms.

            “And that over there is my son Leo,” Tall Woman nods. The kid is climbing around in the back of the landscaper’s truck. He grins at me for 1 second, before turning around and proceeding to play some sort of topple from the truck game.

            Handsome Man comes back with his card and a brochure, hands them to me and one of the other women. He doesn’t engage in the chit-chat. He has work to do.

            “Lots of business for you!” Mr. Doodle’s person observes. And, I realize now that she’s the one who made the drought fun quip.

            Without the drought and the subsequent landscaping, this little gathering wouldn’t have happened. Or not in quite this way. At this time. With these women.

            A tortie cat saunters past.

            “Who’s that?” I exclaim, wanting to go pet the cat instead of talking. But she’s off and slinking under the truck now.

            “Oh, that’s Pebbles. She’s Maya’s cat.” Mr. Doodle’s person says, the authority on the pet element of the gathering.

            As I stuff Handsome Landscaper’s card into my pocket, I smile and wave goodbye. “Nice to meet you all.”

            “Bye-bye!” They call out before going back to their neighborhood gossip.

            I walk on, thinking about the exchange with this group. Glance down at the Landscaper’s card. “Paul Siminali.”

            Okay, I’ll call Paul.

            Who knows, maybe the drought could start some fun. With the right ingredients, that is.