My Mom likes to have coffee on the porch. Sometimes when I get tired of holing up in my room, I join her. She told me how she built this house--how she designed it and made sure they built it right. I never knew she knew so much about building a house.
She even made sure of all the little details--down to how many inches apart certain joints are supposed to be to make the roof strong and not crack. It all makes sense as she tells me about it.
In the neighborhood, there's an empty lot across the street from us. A lady drops off two cows and a baby calf there every morning. The cows graze in the incredibly limited amount of grass all day until she comes and gets them.
The cows munch the little bits of grass. They are so skinny; I can see their hipbones.
On the corner, the workers build a two-story apartment building. The rooms are incredibly small.
The builders don't have hard hats. Some of them are wearing flip flops.
Mom can point out the structural errors in the building from here.
I don't even think that cow lady lives in this neighborhood.
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