Well here's a weird thing. I was at a conference for the past two days and came home to find that the mystery house is now occupied by a person who we have dubbed, with all due respect and some accuracy "the portly priest." We're big on alliteration here at BA31, and if the mitre fits, wear it.
(We're also apparently big on obscure clerical wear terms that might not fit the intended idiom.)
The circumferential cleric has lived there for a few months on and off in the past ten years. It's almost good to see him back again considering the events of a few days ago. And just so you know in person I'd never call him the rotund reverend, but I'm on a roll here and I can't help myself. I've got an acute alliteration addiction.
I should also mention this about the mystery house because it makes me laugh, and I'm all about sharing a laugh.
One time the house was rented out very briefly to someone who tried to "salt"
the sloped driveway with an actual salt shaker. This was the same day he "defrosted" his
car window with a hot cup of coffee. Really -- he poured a hot cup of coffee on an iced windshield thinking it would help.
It didn't help.
Proving that it's literally a
slippery slope between poor decision making and costly windshield
repair.
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