Excerpts from “The Chronicles of Mother Toad’s Life.”

Now the clerks there are nice enough to me. They distrust cops too, so we have something in common. On any given day, I know that I can count on hearing a new stupid cop story from one of them. Like the time one came in without her ID and wanted the clerk to get her mail from her box for her. When he refused, she threatened to do something drastic, to which he told her “Go ahead, you work for the city, I work for the FEDS.” That shut her up.~~ “Going Postal”

Trina and John live next to Kathy and Jack. Jack told me they guard the spies. I have not had much contact with them. Trina came to my door a few times. She is a sucker for picking up strays and then canvassing the neighborhood to either find the owners or a home for her four legged adoptions. On her first visit, a rather large Doberman in tow, she asked if I needed a guard dog. Jack had told her I had been suffering from a string of break-ins. When I informed her that my blind, deaf eleven year old pooch would not welcome another resident in the house, a sly look crossed her face. “Well, maybe you would like to borrow one of my Smith and Wessons then. They’re a little heavy, but nothin’ you can’t handle.”~~”Meet the Neighbors”

I started out drawing the plans. I have had formal training in this aspect of construction, so I know how important it is. I sat at my drafting table, green shaded light, sharpened pencils, scale rule, everything I needed. I even sacrificed the background sound of soft rock. I needed to concentrate, and I was determined to do the project right. This was to be my crowning glory project. The jewel in my hard hat. I plotted and measured the entire project. I checked it twice, then three times. I made a foam board mock up. It all worked beautifully. It went together like a squirrel and a nut tree.~~”The Gingerbread House”

I arrived at the designated meeting place promptly at 7:30. Not knowing what to expect, I was startled by what I encountered. 51 people, all in black suits, were lined up dutifully against a concrete block wall. I made 52. As I stood waiting for my turn at the reception table, I thought to myself “Now this is really normal. Fifty two people standing in line and dressed like pallbearers. And they don’t expect anyone to notice?”~~”Interviewing With the CIA”

As I rounded the corner, Ding was on the floor, pulling on of all things, a wedding dress. Ding is small, no make that tiny. If a five mile an hour wind were to bellow through the streets of Foggy Bottom, she would be airlifted to the other side of the Tidal Basin. Standing over her and attached to the opposite end of the dress, was a woman at least twice her size and half her age. A woman who deserved the name Bertha if I ever saw one.~~”The Ding and I”