January 12th, 2011

hand clap

The Sims

There's a place I call the Sims' house on my way to the park where I walk Fred.  It used to be an ugly old cube house but the new owners have done a very funky renovation and it looks great.  Lots of floor to ceiling windows.  No curtains.  I can't help but glance in when I walk by.  Old habits die hard.  There's a pair of chairs right in the window.  They like to sit there in the mornings and drink their coffee and in the evenings enjoy a glass of wine.  She sports quite an endearing thatch of bedhead most mornings.  She wears reading glasses to peruse the paper.  On Sundays, they get the New York Times.  She tends to favour a soft yellow pair of pajamas with slippers that must've once matched.  The pajamas aren't new but they're obviously her first choice when she wants something cosy.  He tends to be dressed in the mornings.  I imagine he's the one to go out to fetch the paper and the breakfast bagels.

In the evenings, usually between 4 and 6, one or both of them are back in their chairs, sipping white wine.  Sometimes they have Chardonnay and sometimes Sauvignon Blanc.  I can tell by the colour.  Mostly, Chardonnay wins out.

I don't walk past their place later at night so I don't know what they do then. 

I have a soft spot for them because when I've met them on the sidewalk they smile and often say hello.  They've also planted 1,000 daffodils in their front yard (along with the abundant grape hyacinths that are already there).  You just have to like somebody who would give that sort of spring gift to the neighbourhood.