Accounting

The HOA recalled the Victorian though I think it would have been more honorable to duel him. I researched it though, and dueling went out with the Civil War. People were temporarily over young men shedding each other’s blood. So I guess, respecting his time period, recall was their only option.

The votes came out against the Victorian in full force, 41 of the 50 castle Green owners (most of them offsite) voted in a record turn-out. I believe well built relationships prevail over common sense and that this is what happened here. A calling and emailing campaign of epic proportion ensured his recall. Rumor is the skyping board member was especially active in the recall campaign. I imagine him skyping unsummoned into people’s homes, appearing on their monitors like the evil girl in "The Ring". Many of the owners knew him before he was virtual. Whether from built up good will or just a desire to resume reading their email, the owners pledged the board their support and the Victorian was recalled.  

The recall was performed on such a machine.

Now they are getting what they deserve, a recall of all things Victorian. They have turned their backs on the building and the HOA is sweeping in and redecorating the Ballroom and Salon to be less Victorian thus more appealing to "the modern bride". In fact, today as I walked my dogs outside the Castle gates (everyone's dogs have been banned from the yard for fear of making the ground wedding-unfriendly), an Asian man in a suit asked me if I could direct him to "the wedding center". I pointed him to my house.

Social life has resurrected at the castle. We have instituted "Thursday night socials". This primarily involves sitting in "The Grand Salon" drinking. The room to the north of the lobby is The Ballroom, the room to the south is the Grand Salon. Drinking there is hardly something new but had gone the way of the Dodo bird with the onslaught of Friday, Saturday, Sunday night weddings. Threatened with losing our tavern (the Salon) we have made a Thursday night stand. We sit there and drink.

There we discuss Castle intrigue, ponder the mysteries of the Victorian's family (he is clearly still working it out himself), and T. Capote creates his fantasy homeowners board, the equivalent of a fantasy football team. Leif, my husband, sometimes drinks enough that he speaks, or at least laughs.

I have tried to expand the social to a 4th floor neighbor, a financial guy who reminds me of Leif's dad, at least in circumstance. "We're separated but she's still the boss", these are the words that echo in my head whenever I think of John, our newest neighbor. His wife left him recently, but not until first installing him in Castle Green, someplace she'd always admired. He may like it here but the location was not his doing. He was abandoned here as surely as a baby is on the church steps, or the firehouse behind Castle Green which has a sign indicating it's a safe baby drop-off point.

John brought a ham to a parlor gathering on New Years Eve but he has not socialized since. I fear he thinks we're malcontents on the 4th floor. When in fact we are loyal to our country (the building) just not to its government (the current board). But I like him. He admired my dolls in the hall. He told me when he has people over, which he says is not often, they enjoy my museum-like hall display. 

Of course all hall displays have been vanquished these many months by the sprinkler installation. I think ticket sales will motivate them to finish the halls before Tour. Then my dolls will reign again impressing my mild neighbor's guests. I imagine his guests are his ex-wife and her friends, once his friends too. I imagine that they visit when his ex-wife comes to town and lays claim to his Castle apartment. I imagine him living for these days.

He asked me about my blog; he found it during a boredom search for "Castle Green". I asked why he didn't search for himself. He said he had but all he found was a wrestling match he lost in college. It must have been one hell of a match to be on the Internet all these years later.

He asked about writing. How do I do it and was that my college major? No, not in any of the 5 schools I failed to graduate from. I later thought I should have asked why. Does he want to write? Assuming he does, I'm left fantasizing what he wants to write about. I know before she left him, his wife was always traveling, like my husband's mother who forced her family to move from house to house till finally his father couldn't get ahead of the mortgage on one (at a time no one could). Then his mom up and left his dad, moving to Oregon with their 30 year old son who had never left home.

Leif's mom and brother live in Oregon now, where his brother hopes to get by pumping gas; apparently it's a union job there. I don't know where John's wife went. I just know he's in finance like Leif's father, and that both their wives had wanderlust which they finally acted on.

Another neighbor I've invited to our Thursday nights looks like "Brenda" from "Six Feet Under". Leif, who watched the series, finds her attractive. I am more like "Brenda" from "Six Feet Under" than Leif will ever know or should, but my neighbor looks like her.

"Brenda" from "Six Feet Under"

By inviting her to the Thursday social I brought her revelations on myself. Add alcohol and my neighbors and what do I expect to happen?  Here, paraphrased, are her guts as they were spilled to me.

"He was my husband of 20 years, we were never actually married. I'm an accountant. I did the tax math and it wouldn't have put us ahead. I don't think marriage needs to be official. We had 28 years of it and 20 were the best years of my life, of our lives. He left me for the nanny. She and I were best friends. She swore to me she hadn't slept with him till he said he was done with me. He said 'done with' me. He told our children he'd 'tolerated' me all those years. My children are 19 and 21 and my best friends, I'm very fortunate".

"I'm very fortunate", is what my grandmother said meaninglessly, as far as I could tell, in the heavily morphined month before she died.

"I don't have to live any longer", the neighbor continued, "I've had enough good things". I pointed out to her the past years were just her best years so far and perhaps there were other things she'd like to do; maybe take a class? She admitted she wanted to learn Spanish, which was huge progress because earlier she'd said as an accountant she didn't have any interests.

Leif commented later that seeing me talking to the sad lady on the couch he thought she needed a hug, "not because she looks like Brenda, but because she looked sad". This is strange because Leif is too shy to speak to people much less embrace them. When I told him her story he concluded, "a hug wouldn't have been enough".