Sunday, July 09, 2006

Hurray for passive aggression!

One of these days, I'll have to give you some background information on my neighbors to the south. For now let me just say that we've had our issues, most of them being with boundaries, both hard (as in property lines) and soft (as in mind your own fucking business).

This weekend, thanks to a burst of energy the likes of which I haven't felt since that time I replaced lunch with a healthy snack of chocolate covered espresso beans, I did enough yard work to actually make a difference in the overall appearance of my yard. (Which, really, is a very sad statement, because it still looks wretched.)

My above mentioned neighbors, on the other hand, are garden-aholics. With a city lot that is entirely taken up with house, this has meant that they've had to expand their "gardens" to include the parking strips on the side and front of their house, as well as the foot-wide strip of dirt that runs along our common property line - dirt on their side, driveway on mine. These neighbors are not fans of cement and do everything they can to make it disappear, including planting lots of large, feathery plants right along the edge of the sidewalks to soften the edges. I have to admit, it can be quite lovely.

It's also completely impractical. In spring and summer, while these damn things are in full bloom, there is only a foot of sidewalk left and it's impossible to walk through without getting covered in pollen. Now, I can put up with such nonsense on the sidewalk. I don't like it, but I'll put up with it. But my driveway is another story entirely. I need my driveway. My driveway serves a very useful purpose, in fact. It holds my car. And I prefer to be able to get in and out of said car without bending back branches and holding my breath so as to inhale as few allergens as possible. And don't even get me started on the bees...

So, a large portion of my yardwork this weekend - and the part that produced results you can actually see - was spent hacking back the offending plants, which had grown a good two feet past the property line and into my already cramped driveway.

Now I get to sit back and wait for Mrs. Neighbor to discover it. Last year, it made her cry. It's my favorite part of summer.

*I admit that, without knowing the history of my relationship with these neighbors, enjoying making them cry might sound a bit sadistic. You'll just have to trust me on this one. They deserve it. And, more importantly, they started it.

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