I have such a stinky neighbor that the nicest thing I can do is to call him Boo Radley. Although, for that to be accurate, he’d need to stay on his side of the fence more often. And be nice. But I think calling him Boo helps soften my heart to him and hope for something good to come from this situation at some point. And it is better than calling him ‘the mean neighbor’ or ‘the scary neighbor,’ as my children are wont to do.
We have had trouble with them off and on for years, but we got a visit from both the lady and the gentleman yesterday in the the course of 6 hours. Considering the tenor of their visits, that is too many for a whole year. They complain about everything. I believe with all my heart this is a family meant for the great wilderness—with nary a house nor soul in sight.
They don’t like kids, dogs, lights or sounds. Well, when you live in a city with the houses close enough to wave at people through them, you are going to also experience the lights and sounds that children and animals—and living—create. I actually fantasize about winning the lottery so that I can pay for them to move! How bad does a neighbor have to be that you spend your imaginary money setting them up anyplace else? It is either move, or erect a 16 foot wall with sound proofing around their place.
Ugh! I wish they’d just give us a break!
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