-: Part 8 :-

     There's this one house on a corner, almost every day the bus goes by right as a mom walks her two little kids, who can't be in more than like kindergarten and first grade, into the house, her hands holding theirs. It's really kinda sweet, it always makes me smile, and even when I'm in a really crappy mood, I end up having to smile, usually because one of the kids does something really cute or funny, like running to the side to chase after a squirrel or deciding to hop the whole way up the sidewalk. The house itself isn't in the greatest shape, it's still got wooden siding, which really needs new paint, but it's still fixed up really prettily, like the gardens are full and really nice, full of color in every season (even in winter, there's this one bush that has these bright red branches), and there's always something vining up around the front porch, like not in a run-down junky way but in an old-fashioned way. Today the mom and her kids are just climbing the steps to the front porch as the bus goes by - I don't know if they've walked, or if they use the car, I've never seen them in it, but I can't imagine they walk in the wintertime. It's cool enough out that she's got hats on the two kids, they're really cute hats with stripes and bright colors and pom-poms on top, and the boys (I think they're both boys) seem to be having a jumping contest, they're both hopping in place the whole time I can see them. (Which really isn't long, but neither are kids' attention spans, so I'm sure any contest wouldn't last much longer than that.)
     I watch idly out the window the rest of the trip, there's a few people here and there but it's mostly old people out walking (slowly) around their blocks, or people of various ages walking dogs of various sizes. The bus goes around some of the more run-down areas before it goes on out by where I live, and it's kinda depressing here, the houses are in bad shape, and the road has a million potholes, I have to remember not to lean against the window at all or my head'll get smacked against it really hard, going over these streets. There's a lot of college kids on these streets, so it's always crowded with tons of cars parked along the sides, half the time on both sides, I have no idea how in hell the bus ever gets through. We pass by a small car shop, or something like that, it looks like some combination of a hardware place and a repair place, with gutted cars sitting around, and there's a crumbling concrete structure, divided into three stalls, almost, like a three-car garage with walls between, but there's no front to the building. I've never had any idea what it might have been, but whatever it is, it isn't any more - the walls missing chunks here and there, all overgrown with weeds and vines and even small trees on what was once the roof. I remember driving by it as a little kid, I asked Dad and Mom what it was, and Dad just said it was a disgrace, and Mom shushed him and told me it was just an old garage, but even then I could tell they didn't really know what it had been, just that Dad didn't like it. But Dad can't stand run-down old buildings in general, like he hates seeing old empty stores and rotting barns and whatever, he thinks it looks trashy and ugly. He gets kind of upset sometimes, seeing it, and grumbles about why can't they tear down eyesores like that, that sort of thing. Dad likes things to be very neat and orderly - big surprise, he's a dentist, so his being anal about it works out pretty well for him.