Sorry I missed a week.
It's been a bit crazy here.
No, I wasn't just playing with makeup for 2 weeks.
I'm just as hooked on the comings and goings of celebrities as the next person. I watch ET. I read a couple of chapters of Candace Bushnell's One Fifth Avenue before I go to sleep.
But the celebs and Manhattanites have nothing on what's been going on in a once quiet little cul de sac right here in Winnipeg.
Think Kelsey Grammer's divorce is a mess?
Think Sandra Bullock was blindsided?
Last Halloween our neighbor, let's call him A, left his companion, let's call him B.
No word to anyone in the cul de sac.
A little backgrounding: A had bought the house about 25 years ago. B had moved in about 10 years ago. B, similar to Monty Woolley's character in The Man Who Came to Dinner, wanted to be kept in a certain lifestyle, sans work, either paid or domestic.
A let him.
We were wondering why we hadn't seen A for a while. But we hoped it was a simple family matter, helping a relative, yadda, yadda, yadda.
In mid-December B popped in while we were trying to get ready for the holidays. First he said A was missing. We suggested calling the police. No need to. Police were already involved. A had gotten a peace bond against B, who had been told to vacate the premises. B had changed the locks.
B also was hoping we'd escort him to our church for some fellowship. A Christmas dinner, perhaps?
Lips quivering, B said he would leave a few days before Christmas, so A could have Christmas in his own home and invite his widowed Mom.
B then went on to talk about his heroes, the Branch Davidians, who had caused a ruckus a few years ago. B is from Texas and likes guns and the "circle the wagons" approach.
Okay... B, not A, is still in the house.
No sign of A.
On January 13, at 8:30 pm, we heard some loud thuds coming through our living room wall. The wall facing A's house.
The houses in our cul de sac are close.
About enough space to squeeze a car between them.
I looked out the window.
The snow on A's front lawn had been disturbed.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw the snub nose of B's truck.
He had backed it, wedged it, between our houses, so that it now blocks his door.
It makes quite a barricade.
The next day the mail carrier passed the house, the other neighbors shook their heads.