I have irritating neighbors. I would so much rather live in the country were you don’t have to worry about neighbors. These people are the worst neighbors we have ever had.
It snowed the day after we moved here and I first noticed it then. Before the snow stopped falling and they were out there busily shoveling off the drive. I like to sit and listen to the fire crackle on the hearth while snow drifts down. Well, hat’s a thing of the past now. My wife can’t stand to watch me watch the snow fall while the neighbors are getting so far ahead of us. She’s not happy until I’m out there battling the elements.
Spring is really worse. These people have no life. The live in the yard, fiddle from daylight to dark. Tinker with sprinklers and fertilizers to get the lawn to grow. Then mowers and trimmers to cut it once it does grow. Then baggers and rakes to gather it and dispose of it. Mulch. Perennials. Yard spikes. How can a man ever hold down a full-time job and compete with that kinda’ thing. I tell my wife, the man is retired, he has noting to do after his Tuesday morning golf league. He doesn’t have children at home who leave bikes out, smudge his gals, tear his screens, loose his tools and make base paths in his yard. He doesn’t have cars the leak oil.
His bird feeders are always full. His garage floor is always clean. He takes his garbage out twenty four hours before announced pick-up time all organized in neat little tied packages. I’m tellin’ ya this man is sick.
He has a perfect little vegetable garden with rabbit fence all around it. His garage is paneled with those obnoxious peg boards with every imaginable tool alphabetically organized. (I would love to break in there when he’s is out of town and just mix things up real good).
And the thing that really bugs me is that this has been going on for a long, long time but no one has the courage to do anything about it.
I would love to see him forget to set his trash out just once and watch him scamper out in his housecoat and slippers while the driver sits and races the engine.
I know I shouldn’t feel that way. My neighbors are good, Christian people. They love their family. They are kind to everyone. There are conscientious to a fault. They are quick to help people in need. They are patient with our children. (And there are seven of them). They are faithful to their local church.
When I think of them, I always feel guilty about my garage and my dandelions, but I wish everyone who had one of those “ICTHUS” fish on their truck would try to be more like them. I heard a preacher say once “Witness everywhere you go, and if necessary, use words.” I think that’s what my neighbors do.
