The ripping out of the street continues, today accessorized by the breaking off of major branches from our plum and the silver maple across the street. RDC yelled at the driver, who ignored him, and so found the foreman and yelled at him. There will be no more branches broken off.
Later in the morning, RDC glanced out the window and saw three people standing on the sidewalk, looking and pointing at the house. He went out to the porch and said hello in a much different tone. It was the Fosters, the former owners of the house I found two years ago.
They talked about the house for a while. The Fosters were sorry to see the state of the evergreen, which does look quite pathe without its two spires. It was their Christmas tree one year, and they transplanted it. Pity about the three feet of snow. They seemed to like the garden, but I theorize they were being polite. Very little of the south half is currently in flower, and the north half is only started. Plus there's the north side of the house, currently raw unlandscaped fill.
They declined RDC's invitation to come inside, possibly not wanting to see the house with 20 years of change (and a good thing, because Blake's cage was extremely foul and smelly. I scrubbed it this evening.)
When I talked to Mr. Foster before, he said that they came to Colorado occasionally. And here they were. Not, this time, only for their vacation. In 2001, a librarian noticed my address, told me she was my house's family's former babysitter, and sent the owners--the Fosters--the note I enclosed in a card to her.
She died.