Monday, September 22, 2008


Despite being awakened around 6 by the homeless hillbillies in the adjoining backyard, I've had a pretty good and productive day.  Progress is being made on my fence, progress is being made in the living room.  I took another giant mum out of Mom's garden-she grew them, and doesn't want them, but doesn't want to toss them either.

Sigh.  I know how she feels, so I took one and put it in a pot and when I get tired of it I'll toss it.  I now have two of them, they are the size (I kid you not) of small shrubs.  They really are pretty, but not what I wanted, and most likely not what she wanted either.  I bought them last year when I was filling in for fall and some of them went down the street, whereupon they GREW.

So, poor Mom was being held hostage by my gift that outgrew its usefulness.  Oi oi oi.  Human beings are so complicated and they make me very tired sometimes.


Lavinia said...

Homeless hillbillies? Are you talking about goats or people? How can homeless people descend on private property? I'm sorry you were awakened from your sleep...that is so annoying...I hope you were able to go back to sleep...

BBC said...

I've been making a little progress on my place, not much but a little.

Oh hell, I'll just clean up one mess and make another one.

More whiskey !! And fresh horses and women for my men !!

Debra Kay said...

The hillbillies own (or more likely rent) "the manor" and they allowed one of their relatives to "camp" in the backyard-complete with fire pit. The man of the manor spent all his time in the backyard cooking, drinking and talking loudly with the relative-BBC would have loved it. And truly, I'm down with a day or so of it-but on an ongoing basis, waking up to a campfire and coffee and men farting and belching wasn't what my vision for my life was when I moved into the suburbs.

My father felt I was being nosey and prim-but he isn't a single woman living alone who has already had trouble with these people understanding what a fence is for. At 83, his ability to understand that which is beyond his experience is impaired, so I try not to take it as "he doesn't care about me"...but it's hard not to feel that way a little bit.

Once Saul (our neighbor) vouched for the fact that these people were bad news, Daddy got on board with the fence as a good idea and not a wasteful folly of mine.

And I have had serious thoughts with myself about what MY DEAL is-if we were in the country, I couldn't have cared less about people camping on their land. And, in truth, I sleep out in the backyard on the chaise lounge if there is a meteor shower or something of interest. I don't think I'm a tight ass at all.

But two recently unemployed and drunk men sitting around playing with fire really isn't healthy thing to have around. And, BBC, go ahead and call me stuck up, but I really didn't like them talking to me every time I went out back to tend to the dogs or just sit. Now, in truth, they are bored and talked to anyone who came out (fence builders, etc) but DAMN.

Ironically, goats wouldn't have bothered me one bit. I would have enjoyed goats-I like them very much. Fun to pet, nice wool, lovely to eat. A goat is a very useful critter.

Our neighborhood could go either way at the moment-charming older houses, well kept, or squalor-and people camping in the backyard tends to lead it towards the latter.

I am here because my parents are here and I want to take care of them. But dang it, I AM HERE, and while I am, I want the place kept up.

studio lolo said...

I always feel guilty when I toss a tired plant out.

As for neighbors, yup, drunks and fire aren't a good combo for sure. I'd sleep with one eye open.
But how do you know you're not hearing Oliver belch and fart?

Debra Kay said...

Well, a belch or fart from the bedroom sounds a lot different than one from the backyard. It's a distance thing...and isn't it funny that I love it when he does it but not when they do it? Go figure.

But he's been going overtime lately, so I'm hoping he'll cycle on to something else soon. And this morning (in a man's voice) he said "SHIT FIRE".....he hasn't cussed in quite awhile.

I have that worked out though-I just explain to kids who visit that he doesn't know any better and we should feel sorry for him when he uses bad words and ignore him and not laugh. That seems to satisfy everyone's sensibilities.

soulbrush said...

you need to get a nice big fierce looking rottweiler to come live with you (the canine kind).

Debra Kay said...

I've seen pictures of Moonie's mom hanging off a cow's nose-I'm really not worried about prowlers a few months from now. I have utmost respect for the herding breeds-unfortunately the guarding instinct also gets them into trouble sometimes. His father's no slouch either, but on his Mom's side he comes from some pretty well thought of herding stock. He just happens to be pretty too.....(which is NOT well thought of in the herding world....go figure).