Date:	2003-01-16 16:45
Subject:	Funeral for an Action Figure?
Security:	Public
Mood:	amused
Music:	Brick House on repeat...family is getting annoyed

Searched Amazon and E-bay for books on plotting and planning as well as entrapment with little or no success. Some of the titles were very scary and make me wonder if dealing with the Police is such a great idea after all. They are pretty wily – and have weapons. Plan B…Plan B. What I need is a mole – someone on the inside. My daughter is Dawn’s age, but doesn’t really like her that much – besides I’ve no guarantee she would be safe there OR that she wouldn’t like it better and stay. I found another note on the lawn this afternoon: “If you have any action figures, please leave them on the porch.” Later on I saw the strange little man digging what looked like a tiny grave next to the tree in the backyard. He looked around nervously, then pulled what appeared to be homemade action figures, out of his pockets and lined them on either side of the “grave”, then it looked like he was singing. After a few moments of kneeling with his head bowed, he wiped a few tears then hurriedly collected his toys and went back inside. Hmmm.

Date:	2003-01-16 14:37
Subject:	On to Plan B
Security:	Public
Mood:	determined
Music:	Brick House

First attempt to infiltrate the Summers home failed miserably. I spent the afternoon preparing my hearty beef stew (which is almost as famous as my rum cake), poured it into several disposable plastic containers (as I somehow doubt I would ever get a Tupperware dish returned to me) and headed across the lawn. I could hear crashes and thuds coming from the basement area (perhaps they are converting it to bedrooms?). It took several minutes of ringing the bell for anyone to answer. My arms were getting tired and I was contemplating how I would re-organize my freezer to accommodate 6 containers of stew, when finally Buffy opened the door. I put on my best smile and began to explain about the stew and wanting to be a good neighbor to them, etc. She stood there, slack-jawed and speechless. You’d swear no one ever knocked on their door before. After an awkward silence, I held out the containers for her to take and waited (smile firmly in place) for some acknowledgement or expression of gratitude. Finally she managed a “thank you” but the look on her face was still that of absolute bewilderment. I graciously said “you’re welcome” and walked away. It was obvious I was not being invited in. Must formulate a “Plan B” and continue to work on the cunning thing.

Date:	2003-01-16 12:37
Subject:	Toolbelts
Security:	Public
Mood:	frustrated
Music:	Try a Little Tenderness - Otis Redding

Cunning plan has been postponed due to fixation on toolbelts.

I took Mr. Johansen to Home Depot last night. At first, the concept of ME inviting HIM to go there was more than he could handle. That, however, was not enough to make him compliant when I led us down the toolbelt isle. No matter what I said, he refused to even try one on! I told him that his wearing a toolbelt didnt mean that he had to actually become handy around the house, that merely pretending sometimes would suffice. (in hindsight, perhaps I should have chosen another tact) He simply shook his head and walked away.

Found a show called "Men in Toolbelts" on television, but, sadly, it didnt have the same effect. Perhaps if the men weren't gay?

Date:	2003-01-15 17:09
Subject:	Cunning like a...um...
Security:	Public
Mood:	rejuvenated
Music:	Shake Your Groove Thing

Been thinking of more cunning methods. I am beginning to think the way to deal with the Summers situation is to befriend them. I could become sort of a surrogate mother figure and woo them into submission. It would also give me a better vantage point for discerning exactly what they are up to. I could make a pot of stew or a bundt cake and drop it by one afternoon. With all those people crammed in that house, I am sure food would be a welcome sight. After a few food deliveries, I will become a fixture, seen as a trusted ally and someone is bound to spill the details of their plan. Then I will have real evidence to take to the Police (other than notes and crushed geraniums). Yes, it’s a brilliant plan!

Date:	2003-01-14 09:07
Subject:	All's quiet on the Summers front
Security:	Public
Mood:	contemplative
Music:	Everybody's Kung-Foo Fighting

Ran into that carpenter fellow this morning as I was heading towards the pile of rubble. He had a wheel-barrow full of all sorts of bits and pieces I know I can use for something. I have sketched out plans for a weather vane and some lawn ornaments, but had to pretend like I was checking for the paper and postpone my rummage. Found out his name is Xander. Odd name, but he seemed nice enough. In fact he reminds me a bit of a younger Mr. Johansen (with the added bonus of a very manly tool belt). I asked him if they were going to be finished with the remodeling any time soon and he sort of chuckled and made a joke about the apocalypse that I didn’t really understand. I laughed anyway. In fact, I think I laughed a bit too much. Hmm. I had no idea toolbelts had this kind of effect on me.

Things have been oddly quiet next door today, though I can still hear soap opera music (and think I may have also heard fight sequence montage music at some point but that is so easily confused). Am guessing today will be uneventful.

Coast is clear now – off to rummage.

Date:	2003-01-13 17:05
Subject:	The best laid plans...
Security:	Public
Mood:	disappointed
Music:	Beth Neilsen Chapman

Have decided to call Child Protective Service. After being refused help by the Neighborhood Watch Program (and you would think being President would have SOME advantages), the Ladies Auxiliary, M.A.D.D., D.A.R.E., the Tourettes Support Group of Sunnydale, the SPCA (on account of the undetermined kitten issue) and the Police, I am left with no other choice. Phoned in anonymously this morning and talked to the newest caseworker assigned to the Summers’. It appears the last one quit her job after suffering a breakdown of sorts. Her replacement was very chatty and said the poor women saw things floating and heard voices. Very sad. Anyhoo…now I must find my husband’s binoculars and sit at the front window and wait for the drama to unfold.

Later on...

Drama a no go. Very miffed. Im not sure what happened really. The social worker showed up as she said she would and was gone in a matter of minutes. She didn’t even step inside the house! Something is rotten in the state, er um, city of Sunnydale. I guess I really AM alone in this. Note to self: must become more cunning.

Date:	2003-01-10 09:03
Subject:	Kittens?
Security:	Public
Mood:	confused
Music:	Motown's Greatest Hits CD

Last night, after the Ladies Auxiliary meeting, there was a knock at the door. I was worried it was Dawn Summers again with yet another elaborate and disgusting story as to why she has been absent from school and needs to borrow my daughter’s notes. Perhaps she too is coming down with the same affliction her sister Buffy was plagued by last year. I have my suspicions after watching a documentary on Discovery Health that Tourette’s Syndrome could run in their family. Thankfully it wasn’t Dawn. Through the peep hole I saw a sweet-faced man with a very unfortunate skin-condition holding a box of kittens. I though he was trying to find good homes for them and had set in my mind to direct him to Mrs. Stevens across the way – she is one of those “crazy cat ladies”. Bless her heart, she is the sweetest thing, if a bit compulsive. She has even formed a club of sorts with other “cat lovers” in the area. However, when I opened the door he looked confused and said he was looking for a poker game. I was even more confused, but that soon turned to irritation when he mentioned the name “Buffy”. I simply pointed to their house and shut the door…though I did turn on the outside light to help him find his way. He seemed like such a sweet fellow. I hope they don’t lure him into their illicit enterprise.

Wondering what kittens have to do with poker.

Date:	2003-01-09 08:02
Subject:	On to the next meeting...
Security:	Public
Mood:	annoyed
Music:	Sweatin' to the Oldies on the TV

I simply do not understand why the committee refuses to take action on this. The Sergeant at Arms said I should just take my scrap lumber and be happy because that’s more than he gets. I was furious. I had hoped my famous rum cake would have been enough to sway them in my favor…but alas, no. Maybe next time I should use more rum.

Today has been almost as annoying as yesterday. Since daybreak there has been constant commotion next door. I keep hearing high-pitched “hi-ya’s”, crashing noises…and the theme to the “Young and the Rest-less.” Apparently someone has an extensive video collection. I’d give anything to hear the syncopated rhythms of the salsa music they used to listen to…I think Joyce once said their radio only picked up a pi-rate station from Tijuana. There is also a strange little man who occasionally peers out at me through the planks of wood on the windows. My children have collected notes apparently thrown over the fence ask-ing when the new Lord of the Rings will be out on DVD, to send comic books, to tape new episodes of Enterprise and other such ridiculous requests. I am assuming these come from the strange little man as the girls seem sufficiently occupied. I wonder what his role in the brothel will be? Perhaps setting up their computers? Though, I believe Buffy’s friend…oh what’s her name…she is named after a tree, I think…anyway she is supposedly very computer saavy. Hmmm. Perhaps he works with that carpenter guy – though I really can’t see that.

What the committee did want to discuss in depth was the extent of our involvement in the 3nd annual me-morial service for Mayor Wilkins. The Wilkins Memorial Society starts planning the event many months in advance. This coming year, the festivities will be different, as the Sunnydale High ruins will not be available as the site. Our committee members are divided as to whether or not to participate. One faction wants to protest against the memorial because the Mayor turned himself into a giant snake and ate the school principal. A second faction wants to honor his memory for the same reason. The third, and slightly smaller faction says they will only agree to participate if there is a reconsideration of the decision in the Mayor Wilkins germ-phobia themed song writing contest. In all fairness, and endeavoring to be as unbi-ased as I can, I do believe that my cousin’s country and western tune was both lyrically and melodically superior to that of Mayor Wilkins step-nephew Biff. When will the corruption stop?!?

We left the topic undecided and set for a re-vote at our next meeting.

Now off to the grocery to buy snacks for the Ladies Auxiliary meeting. I am hosting it for the first time and only hope the going’s on next door will not scare too many of our members away.

I think I need to organize yet another meeting about the happenings at the Summers house. Living next door to that family these past 7 years has been…interesting. Being a Sunnydale native, I am used to strange sightings and happenings – you sort of learn to go with the flow when forces beyond your control turn your children into monsters or a committee forms to burn high school girls at the stake. But lately, its just more than I can stand. Over the past few weeks there has been a constant stream of young girls going into the now boarded up Summers house. I don’t want to jump to conclusions, BUT, well, lets just say it looks like what is in the works there would only be legal in Nevada!

I know times have been tough since poor Joyce passed away, and Buffy’s job at the Doublemeat Palace can’t pay all that much, but, honestly if she hadn’t decided to spend all of the insurance money from her mother’s death on remodeling the house they would be a whole lot better off…and less inclined to give flesh peddling a try. She does have her sweet, innocent (albeit whiny) sister to provide for and protect! Perhaps another call to child protective services is in order as well.

My to-do list is certainly filling up.

My front yard is a shambles since the most recent party at the Summers house. Its seems their friends were a bit confused and began to descend on my home. One person, a very thin, sickly looking thing be-gan knocking on my door…but the nice men in robes quietly led him next door. Within minutes the madam (as some have started calling her) and her girls ran out of the house screaming and threatening the men with robes. Poor things they just stumbled over each other and fell down trying to get out of the way. Perhaps they are part of our local chapter of Lighthouse for the Blind, as I did notice something not right about their eyes.

Perhaps if we had gone to the Mayor with our concerns sooner none of this would have happened. If noth-ing else Buffy could have gotten help before she started walking the neighborhood talking about marzipan and bingo with that strange smile on her face.

Oh well…off to see what I can salvage of my lawn, and rack up on scrap lumber from next-door’s ever-present pile of rubble. The only good thing about living next to the Summers is the scrap lumber. Over the past year I have been able to piece together several bird houses, quite a nice shelter for my dog, and a lovely set of window boxes for my geraniums.