i spy...

(...with my little eye...)

the dogs have been acting pretty feisty lately. although we went for a nice, long walk sunday morning, there was no question i had to take them out this evening, no matter how dark or what time it was. so, at nine thirty, my permanently chilled-to-the-bone body threw on some sweats, a winter hat, and leashed up the girls. i pulled up the hood of my sweatshirt, and off we went, into the dark, windy, night.

(secretly inside i thought i gained a lot of dog mom points here. i probably didn't, though, in real life, since they hadn't been walked since the morning before, about 36 hours previous.) 

off into the night we went; and because i live in a somewhat funny (aka twilight zone) neighborhood, i made sure that we headed in the direction of the new, schmancy houses a few blocks down. i always love walking through this suburban neighborhood- not only do i feel safe, but i get transported back to a comfortable, nostaligic place ... usually there are children playing in the streets, (or at least their driveways), pretty, white synthetic fences and rows of perfectly blooming tulips, hyacinths, and daffodils. it's a nice, yuppy neighborhood, and it's only three blocks away.

i have always loved walking at night, especially, because lighted windows at night are so easy to see into. creepy as that sounds, i mean it more in a curious way more than anything else. i love thinking about the families that are encased within each house, how their lives revolve around whatever it is they are doing at that moment: maybe they are eating dinner, or watching tv. maybe kids are doing homework, dad's watching the game, and mom's fixing dinner, or cleaning dinner dishes up. maybe no one is visible in the windows at all, but their rows of picture frames are out, or you can see into their playrooms (oddly there are a lot of front rooms functioning as playrooms in this neighborhood). you can see decorative touches and finishes. i am always inspired to clean up my shabby-chic place into a modern, clean-lined, monochromatic home when i'm on my walks.

tonight, as the dogs stopped at a corner house to sniff, i looked up at the window of the house, and caught eye of a pine tree bough through the blinds. i peered a touch harder, and saw the outline of a full-blown chirstmas tree, outlined in black against the lit window.

i counted the months backwards. generously, christmas was three months ago (let's round down, folks, and give them some grace). even rounding down, that is way... way... way... to long to have a dead tree without decorations sitting in your front room. i mean, at least to me... (i didn't put a tree up at all, so look who's talking).

a christmas tree, in april, in the schmancy neighborhood, hidden behind closed blinds.

we continued walking, and i didn't think much of it, but this: that was a surprise. i didn't expect to see evidence of disorganization or busy-ness in these houses. i always see the opposite. and then i realized that, obviously, these people are just like me. duh.

i think this is a lot like how we all are functioning in our lives: we put out the best lawn furniture, best colored flower displays, best paint job, best wreaths on our outside. we doll ourselves up and look not just presentable, but appealing, to others. we open our blinds, and sometimes turn on the lights. sometimes our insides show through, even more so in the 'nights' of our lives, with light shining against the dark. whether we like it or not, eventually, our insides come out- they are visible. we can try to hide them with pretty, real-wood blinds, beautiful window treatments and even shutters. but eventually, those all open up to let the light in, and then, well... even the pokiest, oldest, driest lil' branches of disorganization and neglect, and even dysfunction, can be seen. others just have to stop to take notice of what is shining through the night.

that makes me wonder, too... i wonder what shines through my night blinds? at my house, they can see art on the walls, shabby furniture and vases of flowers. possibly the flat screen tv if they look the right angle; if they're out, they'll most definitely see the two fierce guard dogs. not much else in there- it's (as they say), an open book. pretty much what they'd see if they looked in my life, too, i suppose. not much hiding in here- just me, my God, and my every day adventures and stories. of course, i am used to those, so to me, they look like art, and to a dog-walking stranger, maybe they look like poky, dried out christmas tree branches.


as i continue my night walks through the schmancy neighborhood, and when i feel jealous of their beautiful spring blooms and wrap around porches, i will find solace that there are three month old christmas trees hidden somewhere behind everyone's doors.