Strangers and Weeds

“Can I come in and use your bathroom? It’s a real emergency!”

I can count on one hand the number of times someone has used our doorbell since we moved in 7 weeks ago. When I answered the door, I had that slight air of confusion that comes with unexpected visitors, especially visitors that ask to use your bathroom. After what felt like a long pause to me where I was wishing the manners-book my mom read to my sister and I as kids had covered what to do when a stranger asks to use your bathroom, the college-age kid started laughing and said she was having to do something socially unacceptable for a sociology class. I was relieved on several accounts – that this was deemed a “socially unacceptable” request and therefore my hesitation not totally rude, and that she was not actually going to come in and defile my bathroom.

I love living on a college campus, in part because of the wacky nature of the people and activities. Case in point: sociological experiments. There was also the night Justin and I decided to walk around campus (it had finally dropped below 100 degrees) and we came upon a hoedown. I’m not kidding, there was a bull you could ride, line dancing, wagon rides, hay bales, and of course country music. I’m pretty sure you had to be wearing cowboy boots to get in, because the only people I saw wearing flops were the ones, like me, standing on the outskirts looking in.

Then there was the woman outside the library with what looked like a samurai sword doing what I can only describe as yoga. And the kid outside the English building with his own personal boom box performing several dance routines. I think I counted a total of 6 routines, which he rotated through for hours every day the week before school started.

I’m used to hearing campus bell towers chime away the hours, but only for a short period each day. There’s something deeply satisfying about having every waking hour marked by bell tolls. Living on college campus also has the added benefit of seeing green grass and flowers, which are not to be found anywhere else in this city right now. In fact, our front yard is dirt, but the center section of our circle street is carpeted in lush green grass.

The green grass on campus can only be accounted for by a budget that can accommodate astronomical water bills. Texas has been in the midst of the “hottest and driest summer in decades” (in quotation marks because of the number of people who said this to us in conciliatory tones when we moved here). I finally decided to plant a few flowers, 8 to be exact, and it took me about 2 hours to dig 8 little holes, the ground was that hard. I planted 4 of the flowers at the corner of our little patio, and all around where I watered them little green weeds started popping up. I was so excited to see green I have not had the heart to pull them up. In fact, I think they are the most beautiful weeds I’ve ever seen.