Saturday, November 18, 2006
And a bonus picture of Mimi, but in the name of all that's holy, why does my neighbor think that it is okay to pawn her crap off on the kids when they are out walking the dog? or on me when I'm out doing yard work, or, hell she sometimes rings on the bell with hands full of CRAP, things of no value and questionable value even when they were new. Two weeks ago, I was raking leaves and saw her heading up the street and dearly wanted to pretend that I didn't see her but my mother raised me right, on two counts: (a) I greeted her politely even though in my mind I was screaming, oh sweet mother of GOD, what does she have in her hands today, and (b) when presented with three partially used rolls of truly unattractive x-mas wrap, I just as politely refused with a clever reference to Sally Foster (that she, a childless woman much my own age (different people, different choices, I’m certainly not judging her for that, I just want to make that clear, but as a single person, she is not intimately familiar with public school fund raising schemes, such as, Sally Foster, where you get all the unattractive wrapping paper you could ever want plus the privilege of paying for it)). So after more than a year of being her neighbor (and OH!, don’t get me going on the free advice about child rearing and dog training (neither of which I am opposed to, I so obviously need it on both counts, but it would have a lot more credibility and weight if she had any first hand knowledge in EITHER subject) I am adapting, I am learning to read the signs, and I’m not about to take any more crap off her hands without a fight.
But she is adjusting her tactics, always one step ahead of me, she has a clever evil mind, I bet she could have predicted the sectarian violence in Iraq.
I looked up from the never ending piles of laundry to see Ellie coming back in the house from walking the dog this afternoon with her small, non-judgmental, even-crap-is-treasure-to-a-9-year-old hands full of these treasures. What is it about the cut of my jib that makes this woman think that these items will be welcome in my home? What have I done to make her think that I am the Goodwill Eastside branch? I am baffled by it all, I just do not understand the motivation if it comes from a good heart and I’m just plain angry if she’s just saving herself a trip to Goodwill at my expense.
So, I just had to share these photos and the positive effect these treasures actually produced: they are now stuffed in a bag for Goodwill that has been on the floor of my bedroom for weeks. With the addition of these treasures, I deemed it sufficiently full to move to the back of the van where I will chauffeur it around for a few more weeks before the Goodwill does with it what it will and whatever it will is so much better than having that crap anywhere near my house. These crap attacks make me value what I lost when I moved last year. Jean, Jean, why did you desert me? Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m the one who moved, but you could have warned me that you were the gold standard of neighbors and that I should have put more thought into what I was sacrificing for closer proximity to the schools. You should have known, you are so wise, why didn’t you warn me?
And isn’t Mimi cute with the headphones listening to the soundtrack from High School Musical and looking/feeling quite grown up?