June 05, 2012

Midnight Skulking and other Hobbies of Reclusives

Told you I was a recluse...no picture
I've become a tad reclusive over the past four years. I don't spend much time hanging out with the folks in my neighborhood. I don't mingle, I don't gossip. I rarely venture further than our deck, unless I am hauling The Boy to various and sundry appointments, or when we need something from the store.

I've turned into Howard Hughes...I'm just missing the billions of dollars in net worth, a little facial hair, and the extremely long fingernails.

From the deck, during daylight hours, I am becoming the crazy old lady who tells the little children not to run down the middle of the street.

At midnight, I become a skulker. Eddy, our cat, escaped again. She sat at the bottom of the deck steps, daring me to come after her. We do a cat and mouse game, if you will, clockwise around the van, the frisky feline eluding my grasp. She seems to be enjoying her outing, and reverses directions. The second time, we do the same trip, only counterclockwise.

Ever defiant, she sits calmly in the driveway, waiting for me to get closer before she darts across the street. I give up the chase, as I am hesitant to go skulking in a neighbor's yard and be mistaken for a ne'er-do-well.

I find I am not the only skulker out tonight. I look out on a house on the next street. There are two shady looking characters with flashlights, roaming around their driveway and yard, flashlight beams aimed at the ground in front of them. Maybe they're looking for lost keys or a dropped lucky rabbit's foot. I once searched a motel room in vain for Erin's lost retainer. It's hard to say what they were looking for. 

Maybe they were in training for the London Olympic Games Synchronized Flashlight Team competition (go USA!).

Or perhaps it's a Druid pre-Venus transit celebration ceremony, and they were shining the lights in a pattern that matches the trajectory of Venus in front of the Sun. Unless that is one of my reclusive delusions.

Maybe I should skulk back outside in the dark to tell those neighbors to visit this site, where it shows the time/route for the event.

Then again, maybe not. Eddy and the neighbors will have to fend for themselves.

According to this quiz, I'm a Recluse-in-Training. How did you fare?


  1. All hail the Recluse's Recluse!

    They say that no man is an island, but you're the nearest thing to it. You're lucky that you live in the time of the internet.

    That's funny because I've used the "no man is an island" phrase in my about me page.

    I even have to force myself to socialize on the Internet.

  2. Lurking in the dark? Sounds like a great title.

  3. Well, get yourself a big mouse costume to play cat & mouse and you'll get the Crazy Old Lady Award wrapped up.

  4. I will have to go take the quiz. I wouldn't say I am a recluse but we finally did just meet some of our neighbors after living here a year

  5. I will be a recluse if I had my way. I don't think I need to take a test-- I KNOW I am a hermit. My family struggles to get me out of the house. Nope. I'm happy with a book and my dogs on my lap. The sun and heat makes me cranky. I am super happy when it is cloudy and chilly.

    I also have taken to watching the street. Not because I have to... but curosity does get the best of me sometimes. I've learned a lot about my neighbors without talking to them. I know who picks up after their dogs and who doesn't. I don't tattle, I just know. Sometimes I make noise to let the poop walker know I saw. They always hurry home, come back with something to pick the poop up with.

    I am at the top of my world where I want to be, at home.


Thanks for stopping by. I love your comments...I get all warm inside just reading them!