OBSESSIONS not of the sexual persuasion
Recently my household acquired an exterior security camera system. We now can spy on activities behind the house, in front of the house, and to the far side of the house. Now, keep in mind that our house is tiny. It at one time was probably considered rather fancy since it is a hand-built, river rock stone cottage unlike the majority of coal mining homes in this community.
I love my little stone cottage and am not complaining about the extra protection; but, zounds, every neighborhood cat, errant bird, or fast-moving street traffic sets the crazy thing off. I actually don’t monitor it. My husband does.
Constantly.
And he reports it play-by-play.
As if he was covering a football game.
Daily.
Yep, he’s retired and driving me bat-crap crazy.
He’s obsessed with his new toy.
Blink is his latest best friend. I guess I need to add it to our Christmas Card list?
I’m just not that concerned with the added security. Our little community is just that: little. Population 1,124. But, then again, when Googled, we also have a private island and a popular suspension bridge. I’ve lived here 50 out of my 60+ years and know nothing about either. (I am rather obsessed with accurate information.)
Anyway, it amuses me how, as we age, our interests, priorities, and obsessions evolve.
So, as my son and I come and leave the house, our actions are recorded and duly noted. Yes, we are spied upon. It’s a bit nerve-wracking.
What’s your obsession?
