It was the sweet hour of the sun heading home. I stood in L Studio, my back to the window, taking advantage of the still bright natural light. La, la, la. I snipped away at a strip of red card stock to fit in a discarded book's hanging-for-dear-life spine. I wanted to fortify the spine before sewing in my own page signatures to make an art journal. Fun. La, la, la. . . . Bzzz. What the heck? Bzzzzzz. Louder. Bzzzzzzzzzzzz. And louder. BzzzZZZZZZZZZ. Over my head and around to my back. BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ. I turned and stepped to the window. Striding around the corner of the house and towards the window was our neighbor to the north, his leafblower strapped to his belly like a weapon. I recognized him instantly. What was he doing here? How did he get in the backyard? Our neighbor is a law enforcement officer. Was something wrong? We locked eyes immediately. Neither of us seemed that much surprised to see each other. "Your husband said a lot of dust blew over to ...