neighbors

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.

Late Friday night, my neighbors down the street had a loud party that culminated with several adults wrestling nude in a kiddie pool filled with oatmeal. They were cleaning up oatmeal all weekend. It wasn't all that surprising to me as I have so many colorful characters that live near me:the retired Chicago truck driver who sleeps in his underwear on his un-enclosed back porch and makes his own rubber bands because he said he can't find good ones in Florida. Once he cut the elastic off several pairs of his underwear, tied them together and used them to hold the tablecloth on his picnic table.  Another neighbor, a chain smoker who was working at a gas station, burned his garage down after stocking it with gas.  In our playground, someone once hung the head from a Chuck E Cheez costume 30 feet off the ground in a tree.  One neighbor, feeling despondent, tried to drive his car in to the retention pond only to get stuck in his yard. Some other neighbors helped him push the car out of the mud. And they never questioned him about it. Another neighbor, desperately trying to sell his house for months, finally got a buyer. But he blew the sale - and landed himself a fine — during closing when he announced that he'd done lots of clearing in the protected wetlands behind the house. Meanwhile, I'm sure my neighbors could blog about me and my family. My husband who is constantly peeking out the blinds to make sure the kids don't touch a blade of grass in our meticulously perfect front yard. My son who seems obsessed with peeing in the yard. Wonder if those two things are related?