Well, I could go on and on about my neighbors. I've done a recent poll (Thank you Jessica, Amy and JulzHOLLA!). And it turns out, no matter where you live, neighbors are weird.They have a menu of neighbor crazies: one keeps their butane tanks out next to their garage so they can smoke in the garage comfortably, one has a grumpy man who yells at her kids, and don't even get me started about the FratHouse. We're crashing his weekly party for buzzkill, one of us will show off our stretchmarks, while the other breastfeeds...
Mind you, I am a FANTASTIC neighbor. I just don't think my neighbors appreciate me - or my kids riding their bikes in their grass, but whatever.
I am the only stay-at-home mom on the block here I am the self-professed daytime eyes and ears of this place. Still, some of my GOOD neighbors work odd shifts. So, when something crazy goes down on the street, I've usually got back up. And it seems I've developed quite the reputation, I'm the go-to girl when the neighbors want to know what's going on. Maybe I should wear a tiara.
MAYBE we aren't the greatest of all neighbors. Our backyard, and sometimes our front, typically looks like Sanford & Son, unless we need to clear the 3 foot high grass of toys to mow. Half the time, we don't edge or weedeat, so we're starting to develop some sweet grass fences. If we let Farley the Wonderdog out and don't jump at his first request to get back inside so he can nap on the couch, he starts barking like someone is breaking into the backyard. And I'm loudtalker, sometimes on the phone and sometimes, just for fun, yelling at the kids.
Eventually I do let the dog in, unlike SOMEONE with the yappiest dog ever who only wears his shock collar when they know the animal control is in the vicinity. And when I'm yelling at my kids, I keep the f-bombs and GD's in my head, unlike the NEW neighbors who schooled JulzHOLLA!'s kids as they were coming over one day, on new words and how to use them in a very concerned tone. Mind you, this is a day after the ambulance swung by to check out the one year old who fell through the balcony bars and dropped, not down the stairs, but free-falled ten feet. After all that, the older kid chases a ball into the street. Meanwhile, JulzHOLLA! pulls up, is carting her kids in, and gets ear-violated with, "Do you value your G.D. ball more than your F%$#ing life!?"
Pray tell, how do you address that with your neighbor? Walk over in my pearls and A-line dress & heels, with a casserole, "Hey, can you cut down your very bad words, and maybe oh, I dunno, keep the registered single-family home to a minimum of 2 or 3 families, not 6?" Yeah, I don't think I'm going with that one.
So, see, I'm not the worst neighbor in the world, or even on my block. I've had a lot of time to sit around and discover all kinds of projects around the house. One thing for sure, we have a tree in the corner of our back yard. And since it's in the corner of our back yard, it canopies into our neighbors yards. The only time I've talked to one of the neighbors, it was about her "Piece of shit daughter" and I kid you not, then, "she could babysit for you sometime." Really? Cuz I don't typically let pieces of shit watch my kids. The other part of this conversation was about the tree. We gave them the go ahead to trim it as they wanted on their side. But the angle and the height, it's bothersome but not reachable. That was four years ago. The tree has grown, but half of the large limb is dead. Slightly more bothersome. My leaves dumping into their pool. The nerve.
The tree is bothering me. So, I called and got a quote the other day on trimming 3 branches. $400 dollars later, I called Ricardo to tell him about the quote.
"That's too much." The tone suggested he'd rather just let the half dead branches sit there until the price goes down to remove it.
But ahhh, the desperation of D-I-Yness kicked in.
"Wait a second. You inherited a chainsaw from my dad, right?"
"Yeah." Now the tone has shifted to more of a dangit she remembered the chainsaw tone.
"Daddy would want you to use that. I can pay $400 or you can use a precious gift that's been given to you. Daddy loved projects. Let's honor the man for crying out loud."
"Fine. I'll do it."
"Let's DO THIS!"
So, this weekend, please send your husbands over to help. And please keep your phones clear to dial for an ambulance all in the name of neighbors. Maybe I should borrow a ladder...
***Update - I think Ricardo had planned on it the whole time, or maybe he'd gone out to the tree and assessed that indeed, maybe purchasing a ladder and risking death by chainsaw or death by falling out of tree perhaps all that would be worth the money to pay a professional. That and we'd keep our pristine reputation in this neighborhood in tact.
So, I called off the troops. We'll have the tree cut later this week by people who probably wouldn't have a nagging wife down below. And they probably won't even drop the massive limb on anyone's fence!
That's how I roll.
