Crime Stalkers.

Well, I can tell you one thing about this weekend: It was better than last weekend.

Of course last weekend all four of us were puking, so I'm not sure that's really saying a lot. I mean, we did finally get to see Shutter Island. And speaking of the CRIMINALLY INSANE...

Right about the time The Attorney General and I moved in to town so did a string of burglaries here in the 75904. Now normally when several robberies in the same area are committed the police are summoned, a report is written up and if you're lucky, an arrest is made and your goods are returned.

Not here. If you live in the 75904 the police are never called, a report is never written and instead of making an arrest you simply put my Granny on the case. She can do more damage to a burglars reputation than a thousand policeman on a 12-hour shift.

Granny has decided she knows who the burglar is. She has nothing tangible to back this up, of course, but she doesn't really need it. She believes without a doubt that she knows who is responsible and who is going to contest her? She sits at home every day and peers out her blinds like the nosy neighbor on Bewitched. She knows more about what goes on along Ben Dunn road than Mr. Ben Dunn himself, God rest his soul.

Now unfortunately for our burglar she has dubbed him Fat Boy. That's right. (I once made the mistake of asking why she called him Fat Boy. She looked at me with great disgust and replied, "Cuz he's FAT!" Remind me never to break into a life of crime.) Granny believes Fat Boy breaks into our homes when we are at church, steals our tools and continues to live amongst us; roaming free without penalty of law. Until this weekend...

Here's where the criminally insane reference comes in. (And you thought I had already gotten to it. Silly you.)

This weekend my Granny started our very own Neighborhood Watch program. I had heard of Neighborhood Watch programs before but had always been under the impression they were for, well, neighborhoods. Personally I don't think you should call 20 homes down a one lane road who all have some 15 acres between them a "Neighborhood Watch" program (is there a "Milling Around and Looking" Program?) but I would have been asked to leave had I mentioned that at Saturdays meeting.

Which brings me to Saturdays meeting.

On Saturday morning 20 of our neighbors showed up for a meeting that my Granny had assembled. My aunt Melba went because the stereo had been stolen out of her car (which also means there was a good chance he got a Bryan Adams CD circa 1988 in the process, god forbid.) Brother Bud went because he apparently had a shovel, an igloo cooler and a dome tent stolen from his garage. (Is it me or does it sound like Fat Boy just wants a weekend away to do some camping and, listen to some 80's tunes and maybe spend some time burying something?) My Uncle Dave went because he has a washer, a dryer and car up on blocks all sitting in his front yard and you better believe he has not intention of losing any of them! The gall!

I went for....you guessed it....blog material.

And boy howdy did mama get some.
Let's take a look, shall we?






Here is my Granny. This picture was taken right after I asked a question. The officer in the uniform answered my question. But then my Granny turned around and said to me, "Don't ask stuff, you just moved here and nobody even knows you." She then smiled so I could take her picture. She is a complex woman.





Here is a picture of the group. There are about 12 other people to the right who didn't fit into the shot. And on that note, I would just like to say that I am not sure how my Granny can narrow any of these burglaries down to one man called Fat Boy. There were about seven men in that room who fit the bill. I'm just sayin'.

Here is the snacks my Granny said she would provide. Look closely. It is a half full bottle of Dr. Pepper, a bag of sugar and some coffee cups. There was no coffee. There are, however, some napkins in a coffee filter, were you to want to envision yourself spilling hot coffee on you or dropping some bean dip on your shirt. Though it would have been only a dream I assure you.

Wanna know what this is? Its a pot of venison chili. No one was offered any. Some man from down the road brought it and continued to stir it throughout the meeting. We don't know why. He didn't say why. And then when the meeting was over he got up and took his venison chili with him. Rude! He will not be washing that down with any of my Granny's flat Dr. Pepper or sugar, I'll tell you that much.





This was in case things got fancy, I suppose. They didn't. And yes, that is a coffee pot. And yes, it is unplugged. And yes that is a candelabra. And yes that is two week old Valentine candy. Okay, so maybe things did get a little fancy.

All in all it was a good meeting. I got some blog material out of it - my Uncle Dave was voted in Neighborhood Watch president due to MY insisting that we choose a leader (and who better to do it than a man who can balance a wife, a job and car on blocks?) - and the man who lives in the brick house with the cow mailbox is eating some really hot venison chili.

Of course there was one thing that bothered me.

What made us think that the burglar wasn't among us? And what better way to scope out the "neighborhood" than to come to the watch meeting and find out that Dale Jr. is headed to Mississippi for three weeks come mid-March but he'll be leaving a key to his place in the flower pot by the mailbox, Pat and Brenda's dog died and they now have nothing watching over their property and Buck's back door won't close shut all the way.

Welcome to the 75904.

Leave us your name, address, time of day you work and a list of your valuables.

We will be sure and let your neighbors know...unless they're fat.

Then they're on their own.