Thursday, July 06, 2006

Live and let live

First off, I think it is not fair that I had such a fancy lunch yesterday, and such a shoddy one today. Five baby carrots, a handful of olives, some cherries, a pickle cut into chunks, and a whole wheat tortilla spread with peanut butter. I will spare you the picture LOL. Wasn't in the mood to play in the kitchen today. Now, to business. I am not the sort of person that cares about what neighbours do. I could care less what their yard looks like, if their kids play outside, if they have pets or animals. Rarely does it bother me when a neighbour does something in their own home or yard. But when it starts to effect me or my family or home situation, well, I get a little pissy. Like when the kids from a certain family were constantly kicking down my planters and pulling plants, and breaking trees. That was not okay, and it was dealt with. Or when Jerkster revs his harley for hours on end or leaves his truck (which he parks under our bedroom window) idling for an hour or two early in the morning on cold days. It annoys me, but really, I have no control over it and I would never call the police or anything. He yelled at Ruby once and I was out there and all over him like white on rice, because that was crossing the line. Leave my dog alone you bike revving truck gunning idiot! A little dog rooing in the wind is not a threat, and now she is scared of him and barks even louder at him (gets a ridge down her back and everything. Boy, she hates his guts). Our favourite neighbours moved. We were quite sad about it, and they said "Don't worry, we screened really well and you should like the people that bought it". And I am sure they were nice enough when they came to see the house and when they made their offers. But it has been nothing but stress since these people moved in. They have large loud parties with drunk people spilling into the street (having fights at 2am, smashing beer bottles, wandering into other people's yards). They do things like forget to close their doors and their dogs run away, which causes hours of drunken searching and yelling for them. And fights! DH and I have fought before, once loud enough to worry the neighbours. But nothing like this! Inebriated screaming and slurring and scuffles in the front yard wearing bed clothes. Sure, they are nice enough to talk to but not all that great to live by. Today has been a culmination of sorts. Our street has flooded with police cars no less than three times, and finally they took the man of the house away in handcuffs. This is after he was locked out of the house bare foot, and spent a very long time trying to kick the door in and break windows with a brick. Now the police are trying to get inside. DH was out doing stuff in the yard and heard some things, causing him to worry that maybe the woman locked her husband out then took something and now CAN'T open the door. Any minute now I am sure they will break the door in. Yes, it is not our business. No, we shouldn't feel the need to know what is happening. But for heavens sake! We can't even use our yard anyore without feeling like we are getting involved with them somehow. And I do genuinely worry about people when things like this happen. And I worry about us, and DD. Does this mean that we have to worry when we go in and out that maybe there will be more fights, more police coming and going? Do I have to worry when DD plays in the yard that she might see or hear or get caught in the middle of something? I just hate it. Complain about a messy neighbour all you want. This is ten times worse. Drinking, drugs, partying, and you should see the state of some of the people that stumble in an out of there. Sigh. This morning I was cursing my own lack of speed and inability to keep a clean, organized house. For Ruby discovered a baby preying mantis on the patio. She followed it, sniffing intently and pushing it along with her face, as it tried frantically to escape her gaze. She pretty much kept her nose on it the whole time, across the patio and up the step and up the screen. When it went too high for her to reach she settled on barking at it and doing the universal dog "let's play" stance....face down, ears perked, and butt up in the air with tail a-wagging. I don't think that preying manti like to play, particularly. By the time I found a camera (regular or video) it was too late. The bug was gone and Ruby was back sniffing grass stalks and casting wary eyes at anything she didn't recognize. DH brought two bikes over from his mother's house and put them on the patio. Ruby noticed them immediately, and is afraid of them. She won't walk past them, and even from the farthest point away in the yard eyes them warily and gives a good "oooomf!" in their direction. That sound is reserved for the most evil of dastardly a strange car parked on the road, the garbage cans placed on the wrong side of the door, roller skates, and of course sudden appearances of alien bikes. I myself have reached a pinnacle of laziness and have decided my "treat", my "personal pampering choice" if you will, is to have the yard man come and weed the veggie garden for me. Is that sad or what? But the bindweed is starting to pull down my plants and really, who am I kidding. Sweeping, vacuuming, carrying laundry and weeding are things I am not supposed to and really can not do. It is extremely uncomfortable at the time, and I feel sick and sore for days. Why fight it? Do we all believe that Martha Stewart does the dirty work like weeding? NO WAY. She plans, she plants. From then on she supervises. Perhaps harvesting from time to time but I am more likely to believe that deadheading and weeding and general maintenance are left for "staff". I was threatening to kiss Ruby when I got this picture. If I make kissy noises in her direction she gets all upset and crinkles her nose roll, and looks mean. I still kiss her though LOL. In fact the more grumpy she acts the more I love to pester her and give her kisses and stuff. If I want to get her off my lap (and when she is comfy it is harder than it sounds to move her) there are two sure fire ways. One is to tell her I am going to kiss her on the lips (which I have never done but she isn't taking any chances) or touch her tail. Works every time. Poor thing. She was gifted with a kissable face and a curly tail a person can't help but touch and she hates it.

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