Suburbs of Our Discontent

[Music of the hautboys as under the stage]

Fourth Soldier
Peace! what noise?

First Soldier
List, list!

Second Soldier
Hark!

First Soldier
Music i' the air.

Third Soldier
Under the earth.

Fourth Soldier
It signs well, does it not?

Third Soldier
No.

First Soldier
Peace, I say!
What should this mean?

Second Soldier
'Tis the god Hercules, whom Antony loved,
Now leaves him.

(Antony and Cleopatra 4.3.12-17)

As some of you may remember, I buried a statue of St. Joseph in my side garden a while back in the hopes of getting some action on this house-selling thing. Well, you'll be shocked to here that St. J didn't bring out his mojo for me. So, I decided to re-bury him in the front garden instead, just under the "For Sale" sign, which (according to many "experts" on the Internet) is the correct placement.

I am a believer in all kinds of signs. Shakespeare never let his characters down without fair warning: music for Antony, horses eating each other for Macbeth, a snake dream for Hermia. And when he wanted to spread good news, he always made sure to send good weather or an angelic messenger. You just have to know where to find the signs and how to interpret them.

I look for them everywhere. Yesterday we had two house showings, and the Mariners were playing the Red Sox. This matters. It matters very much, because ever since I met my Seattle-bred husband I've been watching him get his heart broken by the Mariners. He's so hopeful at the start of every season, and by June he's swearing at them like a drunken sailor. Last night we were watching the game: The Mariners were down 2-1. Top of the ninth. It was looking like a typical crap-out game. I turned to him and said: "If the Mariners win this, we're getting an offer on the house." And then, a miracle happened.... the bases were loaded, the Mariners started doing strategic hitting, the Red Sox started making error after error, and ... THE MARINERS WON!

Now, I'm not saying we got an offer....yet. But I'm feeling hopeful. I've got Saint J in my front yard, and a Mariners victory in my back pocket. And--I'm just saying--80 degrees and no humidity. Stay tuned.