Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water....
I was waiting around with a group of moms today, again. As usual. This time I remembered to bring my book, but still kept getting distracted by the conversation.
"Calls from the neighbors."
"The RV in the yard really takes it to the next level."
"Their dryer must not be working, because there's laundry hanging on lines all over the back yard."
At this point I'm all ears, but don't look up for fear of being found out. Despite our working dryer, we have been wanting to put lines up to hang our laundry. The only reason we don't have laundry criss-crossing our own back yard is an inability to decide on a format. Center pole? Pulley system? There but for the grace of follow-through, is what I'm trying to say.
"There's bags of trash outside!" Check. We've got those. Mostly they're on the way somewhere, but sometimes if I'm barefoot (pregnant, and in the middle of making some of my famous homemade meth) I don't make it all the way to the truck with them. The truck which, while not technically an RV, is as big as an RV. Chris wants to weld some bunks into it so we can go on road trips.
"And have you seen the screen door? It's completely broken. The dogs jumped through!" One of the moms notices my pallor and adds "they're pitbulls!" Check, and check, on the basis of guilt by association. It wasn't ours, but a pitbull mix was living here and she did jump through our screen door. Pitbulls are reputed to be smart so I figured she'd make some calls and have it repaired. She didn't. The only reason our own screen door is not completely broken is that cold winter blessed us with a reason to remove said door and hide it in a pile of other broken doors and windows. Ahem.
"The health department will probably come by. There are holes and stumps in the yard." Are these things related? We have stumps in the yard. And by hole, do you mean something you could drop a child down? Or a divot, as would be caused by the scratching of chickens?
They left some infractions out. Apparently the house in question is seriously lacking chickens, boats and a surplus of vehicles. In our defense, our house is not plunked in the middle of a cultivated neighborhood. Our neighborhood is strictly organic. While we are certainly the nuttiest house on the lane, we don't have chem-lawns on either side to accentuate our earthier attributes. Our neighbors seem to like us, to boot.
Quite recently I caught myself being proud of my quirky domicile. It's homey. It's friendly. It's marginally self-sufficient.
It's the bane of my compatriots.
(queue pep talk)