Thursday, September 25, 2008

The tale of the busy body neighbor

I have a handicapped husband who is Mr Mom to our almost 4 year old and 19month old. He's amazing with the kids, and while he'll never be the kind to be able to do yard work or go running with the dog, he's a phenomenal daddy, and happy with his job being the care and nurture of our kidlets.

Me? I come from a long line of type A women who were the primary provider. It's my paradigm, my reality from childhood on - Most of the women in my family fit this archetype and we're good with it.

This seems to completely blow the mind of our neighbor woman. So I don't have a perfectly manicured lawn and my porch needs a coat of paint. I'm OK with that as long as I have my awesome hubby and kiddos. Oh and a spinning wheel or two of course.

I've been getting ready for a yard sale at my Mother In Law's, and have been putting things out on my porch so I can load them up in the van and take them over for the neighborhood wide sale on the 5th of October.

Today however most everything on the porch was freecycled.

A letter came from the town today, complaining about the mess on the porch. Eh? Last year this time she called Animal Control on us to say I was starving my dog. I wasn't... that didn't change her from making the report however. The ACO said our Brittany was a great example of her breed, and looked very healthy - all things her Vet had backed up as well. He verified that it was her who had complained, so I think it's got to be her again complaining about the clutter on my porch.

Seriously however - how does a tent, bookshelves, a sealed 4 pack of Tiki Torches, a windowbox planter, an Excersaucer, a Walker and a play kitchen translate into garbage? I don't get it and I'm not going to worry about it. The Tent and Tiki's are already gone, the Saucer and Walker will go tomorrow or be taken to my MIL's and the shelves and play kitchen will go to my MIL's as well or be carted to the dump. Even in the rain that we're supposed to be getting.

The neighbor woman is elderly. She's lonely. She really freaks out over Mr. Mom who doesn't do yard work and opts to be primary caregiver of our two kids while I work.

She has issues, I get it. But seriously - when I hang roving from the porch on hangers it is not trash, it is processed wool that I've dyed that I am going to spin.

The upside is of course I will have my porch ready to decorate for Halloween a little earlier this year than I did last year. As the skull with dancing flowers finally gave up the ghost, I'll need to find something else to sit in the cauldron and frighten the unsuspecting with.

If I weren't the nice kind I'd likely prank the old bat up the hill, but instead I'll hang back and simply accept that she has already done everything to herself that she can to be this way and I'll hope that somehow she learns to love herself and not be so cranky to the neighbors.

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