Earlier today I saw my neighbor, who appears to be a very strange man, walk past the back of the house. He was wearing pants and socks. No shirt, no shoes, no service. He was carrying a kitty litter box and a small shovel. I was confused and intrigued.
By the way, I'm not some kind of weird peeping tom lady, but I was sitting in our screened-in porch area so I couldn't help but see him. I tried to make it look like I wasn't watching him every time he walked by, although I'm not sure he could really see me that well through the screen. Not that the screen has some magical one-way viewing power. He could probably see me.
Several minutes later, when he had not returned, his strange lady friend walked to the area he had gone into. In the wash behind our house. In the rain. Wearing no shoes. I was still confused.
Then he came back, carrying his litter box, which he had filled with sand. He possibly does not have the money for kitty litter, so he goes into the wash and fills the litter box with sand. Gross.
Other people's actions amuse and confuse me. I don't know why my neighbor goes into the wash and fills his cat litter box with sand. I don't think anybody really knows why. It's one of life's greatest mysteries. Like why Elf is on TV in the middle of July. Or why fire ants keep trying to come into my house, then die because of the pesticide that I sprayed on the threshold of the front door. Maybe they're looking for their lost ant brothers, or maybe they're just suicidal. I don't know why Ava claims to want socks for her birthday, maybe her feet are cold. I don't know why when I sit down here to write a blog my mind is suddenly blank, so then I'm left with one blog update per week, when I used to update it daily. I don't think anyone I'm not related to even reads it anymore. No one comments anyway. It's a mystery.