Grapegate!

I followed a trail of clues and solved a problem. I live in a house that rents out rooms. 
This morning I went to the bathroom to clean out a paintbrush in the sink. 
It quickly filled up with water. So I boiled a bit of water and poured it down to maybe free the obstruction. I could see a flash of purple when I gave a look with my bike light. 
So I turned both spigots on and furiously started doing the plunger businesses on this sink. 
Yes! I grabbed an emaciated grape. 
Still the sink was clogged so I plunged on. 
I was getting debris that I couldn't readily identify. 
I seemed like someone dissolved a cardboard box into the drain. Then I started making out that it was food. Former food to be precise. 
The smell informed me that It had already been in somebody. 
We live in a "Foodie" hot spot. I'm guessing someone over-imbibed and then puked into the sink during the night. 
I learned right away that the folks who rent rooms here are not shagging (those folks go to motels) or binge drinking. These cats came to eat. 
I'm more than happy to add another notch on my plunger handle for crazy stuff I have pulled up. 
The most exotic thing I ever found was the contents of a jar of pickles flushed down a Ptown warehouse commode. 
After lunch one day the receptionist had clogged the toilette the natural way. She then decided to add all the pickles knowing it was gonna be up to me to plunge. She never told me why she flushed the pickles. 
It was a red herring but I didn't know that. 
I cleared the situation and reported to her. 
"I found out why your pickles weren't going down...they were blocked by some turdlettes. Maybe next time you should flush the pickles first, then take a dump."
 LOL.

Single serving friends to remember.

Our life is like mice constantly negotiating a maze only we are creating a maze behind us as well. 
That means we change directions so frequently that regular friend relationships are problematic. Living in a house with constant random traffic affords us "single serving friends" that we can relate to but have no obligation to run into again. 
Don't get me wrong. We love our locals too but running into them on the random or to serve a goal works for us while sitting around does not. It wears out our social batteries. 
Single serving friends it is.
Many times we hit it off with our S.S.F.s and are very sad when they go.
They would make great neighbors.
We just had a pair of women from opposite sides of the country come through. One was here for work and the other flew cross country just to enjoy her friend. 
They were only here a short time but still it felt like we were long term roomies. They felt like old friends and moved around the house confidently.
I love when you find out someone was poly-amourous or vegan in the first conversation, this duo gave us one of each. We thought it was charming that they really enjoyed playing cards with each other. Lots of folks would be staring at phones. When they left, we were busy doing a kid exchange with co-parent. It was too fast and busy a goodbye to tell them how profoundly enjoyable it was being co-habitants. Lots of folks meet in Ptown from other places. 
It's a joy to be all up in that.
The other room was occupied by a lovely woman from No-Cal.
We didn't know anything about her until her last night.
She was sad and a bit tipsy.
That is how we learned she was here for a funeral.
An elder in her family had passed away, she paid her respects and now she was going home with heavy heart. It was our dinner time but Olive got up and started trying to make her comfortable. 
We don't own or work for the room renter but we are handy to have around because we are compassionate and very nosy.
The lady had questions of her own.
"Really, you two are clowns? Do ya juggle?"
We told her that juggling wasn't in our toolbox.
Portland has some of the best jugglers I have ever seen. I never saw a point in competing with those big fish.
"Too bad, I got these tennis balls from the funeral."
She pulled out some tballs and threw them at Olive. 
They hit it off by not juggling and talking about life. 
My son and I were cracking up because Olive sounded as tipsy as our guest but she hadn't touched a drop. She is just fun.
They were all laughing until Olive asked
"Why were there Tennis balls at the funeral?"
The lady got sad again.
"There was a little dog who belonged to the deceased. The elderly doggy also passed away after losing will to live."
What a double downer. They soon shook it off and retired to the kitchen to talk about pleasant things.
Early flight so we didn't get to say goodbye...we still have the tennis balls though.