Author Sherry A. Burton
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Unexpected Visitors

8/6/2012

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Why is it when you look your worst you get unexpected  visitors? I worked in my yard for three hours recently, trimming the hedges,  pulling weeds and pulling even more weeds. After the first hour in the  sweltering heat, looking less than presentable, the pest guy, who was spraying  the house next door, caught my attention asking the status of my children’s  book. I let him know it was out, and of course I have copies, to which he said
he wanted one. I went in, washed my hands, retrieved the book, and signed it  for his three children. It just goes to show that I never turn down a chance to  sell or talk about any of my books! 

  I went back to work on the yard, and after about an hour the neighbor kid drove up and
decided to come over and say hello. This is rare, as he normally has blinders on and goes straight from the car to the house and back again, without a doubt  still numb from the blare of his stereo. But not this time, no this time he  walked over to say hello. Keep in mind by now I’d been working in the heat for  over two hours. He told me the yard was looking good and I told him no, it is looking less bad. After chatting several moments he went inside and I got back to work kneeling in the dirt pulling weeds. 

Two separate people stopped to ask me where the yard sale  that was, three houses down, closed for the day, back open in the morning. At  the three hour mark I am now totally covered in dirt, the sweat is causing the  dirt to run in streaks down my legs. On a scale of one-ten I am pretty sure I  was a minus seven on the sexy meter. I looked up and another neighbor who’d  purchased a Goblin book the day before, had seen me outside and decided to  bring the kids by and let me know they loved the book! The kids had a ton of  questions and comments about the book. I answered them all, told them I was
 happy they loved the book, and made further small talk until they were ready to leave.


I have few friends in the area so it is rare that I get  company, yet today when I looked the worst I’ve probably ever looked I had plenty of eyes upon me. It is funny that even though I looked as though I had  walked through a garden hose and wallowed in the mud, not one person made any comment about the state of my appearance. Were they just being polite or were  they afraid if they made mention of how hard I was working that I might ask  them to help? I guess I’ll never know…

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