Nasty neighbors

So I live on this street of a middle-class neighborhood.  We don't have people come to manicure our lawns.  We don't have shrubs shaped like cherubs or zebras.  But we do have some standards.  They are few, but simple...basically it's these simple edicts:

• mow your lawn before it goes to seed
• don't let your dog do his business on my grass (and if he does, pick it up)
• keep your trash in you back yard where I don't have to look at it
• park in front of your own house

Now, last year, the guy who lived across the street was meticulous.  I'm talking, he'd be out there trimming and blowing and cutting and mowing all the time.  I'm not asking for this kind of perfection (and frankly, I don't want it...it makes too much work for me to try to keep with).  However, the people who bought his place are lazier that I am.  Believe it folks -- there is a couple who are actually that lazy.

It started out with their car parking.  There's this kind of unspoken rule in our neighborhood of "the street in front of your house is for your car".  Our neighbors have even come to us telling us that they'd be having a party and "is it okay if the guests park in your spot?" -- I'm cool with that, it's a temporary and occasional thing and not that big of a deal.  Now, I park my car in the garage anyhow, but still, I don't like to see other people's vehicles in front of my house (unless they're visiting me!).  It's so...ghetto.  But, that was the first thing these people did.  They parked in front of my house.  Okay, for the first few times, I get it...you're new to the area, you've got unpacking and stuff to do, and I realize that it's a lot of work to actually turn your car around and park on your side of the street in front of your own house. But whatever.

Then, they started parking the wrong way -- whether in front of my house or theirs.  I don't know why -- but this ticks me off.  I'm no saint, I've done it myself...pulled up, parked on the wrong side, ran in to get whatever it was I forgot, and back out again.  Total time parked like an idiot = 30 seconds. These guys take it to a whole new level...parking like that on a Friday evening and not moving the car again until Monday morning.  Uncool, folks...really uncool.

Soon, we noticed garbage bags.  The first was just sitting there, on the front of the yard.  I thought "hmmm...they must not know that garbage goes in the back alley."  That garbage sat on the front of their yard for 2 months.  No word of a lie.  I would have told them where it was supposed to go, but they are strange -- they don't look at you or nod or smile like everyone else...I think that their immediate neighbor told them garbage is picked up in the back -- for some reason, the bag disappeared...only to be replaced by another one less than 3 days later.  I saw this one happen as I looked out at my kids going to school.  The woman came out of the house, carried the bag of garbage - placed it on the public sidewalk and left. I shook my head.  The man of the house came home later, picked up the same garbage bag, carried it halfway up their walk and left it there. It stayed there through rain, snow, sun, wind, more snow, more sun, more rain.  A few more bags made their way to the front yard -- no pattern, just scattered about.  Some of them were attacked by dogs/raccoons/rabbits...garbage strewn everywhere, but nothing at all was picked up.

By this time, their grass had grown....a lot.  It's long enough now that it's gone to seed.  It's past my knees!! People..that's bad.  Like really bad.  Our city has a bylaw -- over 10 cm (4 inches for you American readers).  This is well, well past that.  I'm sure it's 1 1/2 feet by now!  (well, except for that area under the bit of carpet that is tossed out there)

So -- becuase I'm a coward, suck at confrontation, wonder if maybe they don't know, I printed off the bylaws that they were violating and (like the chicken-hearted soul that I am) waited until they weren't there to drop it off in their mail box.  I watched and waited for them to get it....

Then I got sick...so sick that I couldn't even stay awake. I  went to bed when the last child left here (about 5) and didn't get up until 730...but guess what -- the garbage is gone...the carpet, too.  It's been rainy, so I can't see them cutting any grass....but I'll keep you updated.

FESTIVUS FRIDAY: The Airing of Grievances

I got this fabulous idea from We Aren't Perfect and I LOVE it.  I tried to post on her blog, but it won't let me.  I may try again in a new browser though.

Anyhow -- If (like some people I know) you're too lazy to click on links, the idea is, we are moms (or maybe not) and things can tick us off -- much like my posts about Unhappy Moms that got people to vent about their issues.  This is the same thing -- only under the spirit of Seinfeld -- a Festivus Friday Blog post.  I'm in cyber love.







So, I'll go first.  My grievance is having to tell my kids (and my chosen ones too) the same answer 10 times over...such as "no, you can't have a chocolate bar for lunch today." They then try again, and again.  When they realize that I'm not changing my mind, they then send in their recruits -- as if I have a secret favorite child who will bat their beautiful little eyes and tilt their head at just the right angle to make my will power shatter.  It is not happening, kids, give it up!!  So that's my grievance for the week -- answering the same question a million times over.

I think that this may become a weekly post.  Who doesn't need a little venting now and then?

It's your turn....post your grievance!

the battery saga: Finale

So, I thought I ought to update you folks out there in Bloggy World about the end of this saga.

The battery has passed.  I don't know how -- uh, wait, I do know how, but I don't know when.  I had run out of my prescriptions and had to go to the doc anyway -- so I dragged the little demon child with me.  A quick xray showed that there was no battery to be found.  Yahoo!

Now, 2 days after the end of that, begins the next tale of motherly adventures.  On Monday night, my middle guy was complaining of tummy pains.  He picked at his supper, and willingly went to bed (I should have suspected at this point).  1/2 hour later, I hear *cough, cough...splat*

Every mother knows this sound.  The sound of barf hitting the floor. The sound that lets you know that there is not a peaceful night of blissful sleep ahead; rather a night spent scrubbing floors, cleaning up sour puke and trying to comfort little bodies.

For the little bit of food he ate, Mr Man sure had a lot in his stomach.  He managed to get another shot at the carpet in his doorway on the way to the bathroom and also completely covered the toilet (made it there, but not in time to lift the lid).  *le sigh*

So, cleaning all that up was fun.  Lots and lots of fun.

Throughout the night, he was sick some more.  I stopped counting after the fourth or fifth vomit session.  I cleaned it off the wall, off his bed (again, and again) off his pillow, off the books that he got...Oh Joyous Puke. (and why he couldn't get it IN the puke bucket we gave him, I'd like to know!)

Morning comes and there is a definite aroma of stale puke in my house.  How lovely.  We are now pricing out a new mattress for him (anyone know of a place having a sale?)

He continued to puke all day yesterday.  He was able to eat 1/2 of a chicken leg for supper last night, and kept it down.  He's still sleeping...but if that nasty virus starts and ends with him, I'll thank my lucky stars!