Wisteria Lane

It's a very rainy Monday, and I just want to go back to bed and pull the cover over my head. But, I'll write instead...
This photo is the backyard of my parents house. The neighbor's wisteria is falling towards my mother's clothesline. I think my Mother is the only person who still hangs her sheets out on the line in Silicon Valley.
Sometimes it feels like time has stopped when I walk into my parents house: high school graduation photos on the wall, old prom dresses in drycleaner bags in the closet, elementary school art projects hang over their washing machine...
My parent's house hasn't changed much, but their neighborhood has. Young couples, gay and straight, snatched up most of the homes and remodeled or restored the homes to their natural beauty. My Mother once said, 'oh my! what beautiful rainbow flags these are on our street!'
My sister and I always fight on who has to water their plants and lawn when they are gone. Their plants are still in macrame holders, so the water just spills all over the damn place when you go to water them. You have to walk around with a towel in your hand to clean up the mess. But, because time stands still, those macrame holders will not be replaced with anything more efficient or for God's Sake, something that is not beige or brown.
To water the lawn, you have to take an old crane looking thingy with a hook on the end, and stick it into these metal cannisters in the lawn and turn the sprinklers knobs on and off by using this crane-hook. One day, I was very frustrated that the sprinklers would not turn off and I kept trying to hook these knobs, but by now they were flooded and the sidewalk was too. I walked over to the neighbors Mike & Jeff, and asked for some help. Mike came over, took his hand and stuck it way down the flooded metal cannister, and while ants started to climb wildly up his arm, reached for the knob and turned it off.
"You see, he said, that's all you have to do!" he said.
"Yuck," I can't believe you just did that!" I said. I was very impressed that this gay guy would so willingly stick his hand in a bunch of muddy water with ants.. for my parents. And me, their loving daughter... could only be angry at them for not having an automated sprinkler system.
" Well, your Dad showed me one day," he said. "Your parents are really nice."
Yes, my parents ARE nice, and even thought their house is stuck in a time warp, the one thing that will never change...their hospitality to anyone who shares the same sidewalk.