bad guys and coffee shops

When I leave the house in the morning to exercise, I always tell Regis I will lock the door. He has always said it isn’t necessary, but here is proof that there are bad guys out there and they will come into your house if you don’t guard against them.

SPPD is investigating recent residential burglaries that have occurred in the following areas: the Summit Community, the 400 block of Mulberry, the 700 block of Washington Avenue, and the 600 block of N. Minnesota Ave. The suspects primarily target cash, jewelry and electronics.

The burglaries have occurred during the early morning hours, between approximately 4:30 am and 6:30 am. Suspect(s) have gained entry through unlocked doors.

I am vindicated. My concern about bad guys is not unfounded.

I don’t like to travel and get regular grief about it from my loved ones who do. Here is a poem by Billy Collins. He talks about commanding the simple precinct of home.

Consolation
by Billy Collins

How agreeable it is not to be touring Italy this summer,
wandering her cities and ascending her torrid hilltowns.
How much better to cruise these local, familiar streets,
fully grasping the meaning of every roadsign and billboard
and all the sudden hand gestures of my compatriots.

There are no abbeys here, no crumbling frescoes or famous
domes and there is no need to memorize a succession
of kings or tour the dripping corners of a dungeon.
No need to stand around a sarcophagus, see Napoleon’s
little bed on Elba, or view the bones of a saint under glass.

How much better to command the simple precinct of home
than be dwarfed by pillar, arch, and basilica.
Why hide my head in phrase books and wrinkled maps?
Why feed scenery into a hungry, one-eyed camera
eager to eat the world one monument at a time?

Instead of slouching in a café ignorant of the word for ice,
I will head down to the coffee shop and the waitress
known as Dot. I will slide into the flow of the morning
paper, all language barriers down,
rivers of idiom running freely, eggs over easy on the way.

And after breakfast, I will not have to find someone
willing to photograph me with my arm around the owner.
I will not puzzle over the bill or record in a journal

what I had to eat and how the sun came in the window.
It is enough to climb back into the car

as if it were the great car of English itself
and sounding my loud vernacular horn, speed off
down a road that will never lead to Rome, not even Bologna.

How much better to command the simple precinct of home. I love that line.

When Tamika called me last night to offer me the job, she wondered how I felt about working a shift at each station. I could work with the baker for a shift to learn what that work is like. I could? Imagine. I can’t believe they will pay me to do this.

I am busy making a binder called: Teresa Learns about River Rock Coffee. Those of you who know me will not be surprised by this.