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Entry date: 3-17-2023 - Happy St. Patty's Day (and Mary) - Letters to My Friends

Dear Friends,

I can't help but think about my first "date" with Rhondi on this day. This morning on our walk, I was thinking about how excited I was to finally meet her way back in 2005, even though I couldn't quite put my finger on why. I guess part of me knew how special she was (and is) and that something good was about to happen.

It certainly didn't make my life any easier at that moment, but it was all worth it. I wasn't quite ready to be a good boyfriend, let alone husband, but she was willing to stick with me and give me chance after chance. Luck of the Irish indeed.

Happy anniversary of our first date, babe.


Still digging the cord cutting. I can't really remember the last time I did not have some form of cable TV. It has to be 20+ years. Of course, the world is different now and you can watch TV on your damn phone. I listened to the end of the Suns game on my phone last night after I got home from practice/picking Teresa up. Even though the Suns are in big trouble right now and have no reliable scorers other than Booker and, when he is back, Durant, I still enjoy listening to Al McCoy. I hope he never retires but I'm guessing he will do so sooner than later.

Something tells me that if the Suns are going to win a championship with Durant here, next year is the year, so we shall see if that is enough to convince Al to give it another go. From the sound of his voice, he seems to have a lot more in the tank and he still rules. I think he'd be the happiest person in town if they could win it. They'll never have anyone who is as big of a fan of them as he is.


"Go ahead, Mar. Unlock the damn door," Connie said with a tone in her voice that was a mix of anger, excitement, and impatience.

Mary fumbled with her keys, afraid of what she was going to see when she opened the door. The images from the previous night's videos ran through her head. Part of her expected spiders to spill out of the door when she opened it.

There was nothing there, though.

When Mary and Connie stepped through the door, the house looked peaceful and quiet. There was no hint of spiders anywhere and, most importantly, it felt like Mary's house again. Even Connie felt a tinge of relief, although she was ready to get busy and start taking fans down.

Connie set the tools down on the kitchen table which was adjacent to the island, which had been covered with spiders in the video. She kept waiting to see something scurrying around in her peripheral vision, but it was quiet. It was almost nice.

"I have to admit, Con, that I wasn't expecting things to look like this. I was expecting to see something terrible."

"Do you think it knows that?"

It felt strange to hear Connie refer to whatever was creating this situation as "It."

"It is an 'it', isn't it?" asked Mary.

"Honestly, I have no idea, but I don't see how a person could have done all the things we saw...(She paused)…or thought we saw last night. I mean, did you even know that Jim used to leave me little notes all the time?"

"I would have never thought about that, no."

"Let's go take down some fans, Mar. Let's put this behind us."

"Okay. I'll get the ladder from the shed. Do you need anything else?"

"A gun?"

"I can't tell if you're joking or serious. To be honest, I kind of wish I had one."

"I'm only half joking. When this is over, you are going to owe me a lot of drinks."

"When this is done, we are getting very drunk and I am definitely buying."

Mary opened the door to the backyard and stepped out on the porch. The fans were not moving. In fact, the entire backyard, including the beautiful new porch was perfect. Immaculate, even, which was odd because Mary had not cleaned up her mess from her weeding the previous Wednesday. She had avoided doing anything in the backyard except for taking out the garbage the previous day.

"At least it cleans up," Mary joked.

"What do you mean?"

"I left a big mess the other day when I was doing the weeding and stomping on egg sacks."

"That's fucking odd."

"I don't get it. Traumatize us and then clean up. What the hell?"

"Get the ladder, Mar."

There was that tone again. Mary wondered if Connie was really angry with her. She did have a right to be and Mary really couldn't blame Connie for being upset. This whole thing was weird and upsetting and, well, just plain scary. Mary had brought this into Connie's life.

Mary did as she was told and grabbed the ladder from the shed. While she was in there, she thought about grabbing the pickaxe, just in case. It was a smaller one and Mary used it when she was turning over garden beds every other year or so. It could certainly make short work of the fans. It would feel really good to just smash the hell out of the fan.

As Mary walked back toward the porch, she could see that Connie was taking tools out of trusty rusty. She also noticed that each of the three fans had started to turn, albeit slowly. Was there a breeze, she wondered?

But she didn't feel anything.

(to be continued)


See you tomorrow.

Damn it. I just realized this screen shot cuts off the fact that Rhondi has the photo credit here.

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