I hope this blog takes off because we all need some humor in our lives. People described in this blog should remain nameless as you might personally know some of them.
I have the wackiest group of neighbors in Clay county. I live on the island, hence my screen id. I live on a cul-de-sac in a community with a homeowner's association. It is for the most part a sleepy little neighborhood, but we have our days. Here goes. I swear that what I am about to write is the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
Neighbor #1. He is disabled from an auto accident. He sustained some serious life threatening injuries, and recovered, but he is in pain most all the time. I call him mister leaf blower. Since he doesn't work, he spends hours in his yard. Granted, I would kill if my yard looked like his, but he takes it one step further. If a single leaf blows in his yard, he will fire up the leaf blower and blow it from one end of the road to the other. He blows morning, noon, and night. My next door neighbor told him one night about 10pm to put that @#$@# blower up. In our neighborhood we don't have many dogs, but what we lack in dogs, we make up in cats. He spreads shell fragments instead of mulch. The cats believe they have gone to kitty litter heaven and make profound use of all that litter. So, he collects his urine, and pours it in the yards of the owners of all the cats. Something he readily admits. He says that marks territory and the cats won't come back to his yard. He moved to the neighborhood several years ago from a large lot in the country. He likes to bathe in the front yard and clean up before he goes in the house. Yep, you heard that one right. I'll leave the rest to your imagination. He tried to sell his house FSBO, but when the interested people took the home tour, not a single one ever came back.
Neighbor #2. OCD. Obsessive compulsive disorder lady. She goes through the recycle bins of all the neighbors for goodies, and things she can use to make crafts. The house is so full of things that there are "pig trails" where you can walk, but not stop. She can't seem to throw anything away. She is a green neighbor, her compost is thrown into her front yard flower garden where it decays. Yep, you heard that one right. You might see eggshells, cucumbers, bread, cabbage, etc., right in the front yard. In fact, her house is so full that it has begun to spread out on the lawn. Her front lawn looks like Home Depot when they toss the dead flowers out, but recycle the plastic containers. They have a broken down car in the back yard that is used for guess what? Storage!
Neighbor #3. The good old boy. In fact, considering he lives between #1 and #2 he is a good old boy. He loves his drink. Works hard, doesn't bother anyone, and thinks his neighbors are crazy. I have to agree with him. His good old buddies are a hoot, in fact they have offered to take care of his neighbors, country boy syle. (whatever that is)
Neighbor #4. The accidental victim. She bought the house thinking we lived in Smallville. Bad move. Neighbor #1 used her faucet to water his beautiful lawn for months, always when she wasn't home. She now has a lock on her faucets. After lving next to neighbor #1 for a few years, she is selling in the spring. Sad, she is a great neighbor.
Neighbor #5. The apartment dweller. He bought the home so he could deduct the mortgage interest. He had no idea that a house had to have upkeep. His idea of upkeep was mowing the yard. We talked several times, and he said yardwork wasn't high on his list of things to do. I used to fertilize and apply weed killer to his side yard just to give me a buffer zone. After the chinch bugs ate his lawn, he applied fertilizer. He had the most beautiful weeds imaginable. When he sold his house and was moving away, he apologized to me and said he knew I did a lot of yard work and that he was sorry his yard looked so bad. He smiled and said, who knows, you just may be trading one devil for another one. He smiled again, walked away and drove off into the sunset, west Florida.
I have a couple of more neighbors to go, and I haven't even gotten off the cul-de-sac. But time marches on. Next chapter - neighborhood mediation.