I'm A 29 Year-Old Tattletale

So yeah, I'll go ahead and admit it. I'm a tattletale.

But they started it. So there.

As I have mentioned before, Razorback Fan has abandoned us and moved closer to his work. The only problem is that his house is still for sale...still sitting empty. He comes back every now and then to, well, I'm not sure what he does. I mean, I would hope he's got most of his junk out after over a year.

Anyway, Razorback Fan pays the neighbor kid to mow his yard. And for lack of a better name, I call him "Fro Boy". He's probably 13, is about 5'8", and is skinny as a rail. He wears clothes way too big for him and has a head of thick, curly brown hair. With a bit of teasing, he'd have a killer fro.

Fro Boy and his friends have been hanging out over at Razorback Fan's vacant, unattended house after school. Fro Boy, the kid across the street, and two girls have been spending their time in the driveway, front yard, and front porch.

Clearly not a good idea.

Especially since they've knocked over landscape lighting, hung their hoodies on the outside garage lights and twisted them (which looks really nice, by the way), and left all sorts of trash over there. Not to mention the ink pens they destroyed and then slung the ink all over the driveway.

Really? Here's an idea: GO ACT LIKE AN IDIOT AT YOUR OWN HOUSE.

Since my efforts to tell Fro Boy and his friend they had no business hanging out at Razorback Fan's house earlier in the summer obviously had a lasting impression (I caught him climbing on the roof), I did the next best thing.

I called the Real Estate Agent who has the house listed.

Yeah, I tattled. The agent was quite disturbed that was going on, and promised to call Razorback Fan and take care of the issue. That was last Thursday. We didn't see the kids again for a few days and thought all was taken care of.

We were wrong.

Tuesday, they were back. And in full force. Their number was growing, having added a token fat kid. Husband's passive aggressive attempt at getting them to leave by mowing the yard (twice) and blowing grass on them didn't work.

So I kicked it up a notch. I called the cops.

That's right. Don't push me, my friends. I am not shy about calling the cops, as proven by how many times I had to call them on NESN.

My only fear was that Fro Boy and his little gang would disperse on their own before the local police were able to come and run them off. Oh, but that fear was unfounded.

Husband was still outside cleaning up his massive amount of grass clippings (that's what happens when you mow the yard twice) when an officer drove up. He ran the kids off, hopefully for good.

Husband's afraid that the cop tattled on us, and fears retribution. I don't think he did - surely he wouldn't do that.

And even if he did, I don't care. Bring it on. If those kids think they will get the best of me, they are sadly mistaken.

Because I'll take it even farther next time and talk to their Momma.

Neighborhood Update

It's been a while since I last updated you on the happenings in our neighborhood. In truth, it's because things have been pretty quiet. But here's a quick rundown.

As you know, Non-English Speaking Neighbor moved out, leaving their property to be overtaken by the jungle that was their yard. The city came and mowed a few times, knocking the grass back to a manageable height. Their house is still vacant. There is a fluorescent sign on the window, stating the house was "winterized" by the city, meaning they shut off the water and drained the hot water heater. I think there have been three different realtor signs in the yard over the past several months. I must say, it's been very nice not having to worry about the kids climbing over the fence, throwing rocks and trash at the dog, dealing with their loud parties and general mayhem. I'm not sure I really want anyone to move in back there. That's why today, I was dismayed to find out the house is under contract, and saw signs of life over there. I hope they're good neighbors.

Orange Truck Guy and family moved out. I kind of miss seeing OT Kids playing outside, but take comfort in the fact that there's no giant, noisy, orange truck constantly parked in front of my house. Their house was vacant for a while, then the Party People moved in. They had their first party the night they moved in. The beer bottles that migrate over into our yard after a party get kicked back over into their yard...I'm not quite sure how that happens. Amazingly, they seem to be quiet partiers. At least they haven't been noisy enough for us to feel the need to call the cops on them yet. One note of interest, however. They have an orange car. What are the chances?

Razorback Guy left us too. He's moved closer to where he works, taking his fence-running puppy dog with him. Argus misses Dixie. I miss her too, because she used to exercise Argus by getting him to run up and down the fence while she sat at one end and waited for him to run to the other end and come back. It's pretty quiet over there now. And Argus is pretty bored.


We do have a little excitement going on in the neighborhood. Some new folks moved into the house behind OT Guy's (now Party People's) house, next to NESN's house. They have kids. And a trampoline. I'm sure you can guess how Argus feels about the situation. Our yards aren't very big, and I can guarantee that trampoline takes up probably 80% of their available backyard. The kids are out on the trampoline all the time, and they love playing with a ball while they're jumping. And you know what that means. Tiny yard + trampoline + ball = ball going into neighbor's yard. A lot. I've witnessed the kids climbing over into Party People's yard multiple times in order to retrieve their runaway toy. After all, they only have about 6 inches between the trampoline and the fence, so it can't be difficult. The first time they hop the fence into my yard, they are in for a little surprise in the form of an unhappy me or an unhappy dog. I'm not sure they'll like either. It's just that these kids are Middle School age, and they spend way too much time on the trampoline for their own good. Was that still cool when we were in 7th grade? Seriously. Go play some video games or something.

Our mail is still getting wet in the broken mailbox. Newman doesn't seem to mind shoving the mail into the back of the box in an effort to keep it in there. I can never mail anything out since the flag was broken just after we put up the blasted mailbox, and Newman doesn't pay enough attention to realize the envelope not addressed to me with a fresh stamp on it needs to be sent out. I have purchased a new mailbox, but it is sitting in the laundry room waiting to be installed. It's hard to get motivated to get out there and mess with it when I'm afraid as soon as I do something will happen to it. And this time, I bought a $12 mailbox. Obviously the expensive ones break fairly easily. So if I have to keep replacing them, I'm just going to go the cheap route.

That's really about it. I know you were hoping for more good stories about my crazy neighbors. Winter just seems to keep them inside, I suppose. I'm sure there will be more to report as the weather gets warmer, and hey, maybe I'll even put up the new mailbox.

Neighbor Update

It's been a while since I updated everyone on the comings and goings of the neighborhood. Shall we?

Razorback Fan is still with us. He tried to sell his house for months, and being just about the only house for sale in the entire neighborhood, had very little luck. So he gave up, got out of the contract he had on his new house and has stayed where he is. Meanwhile, there are now three other houses on our street, and about 10 total in our neighborhood for sale. Bad timing, Razorback Fan...perhaps some of the team's bad timing has rubbed off on you.

Orange Truck Guy and Girl and OTKids are still around too. They play outside quite a bit, much to Argus' dismay. It's fun to see the kids outside with sidewalk chalk when we come home in the afternoons, or chasing each other up and down the driveway on her pink bike with training wheels and his little red tricycle. Of course, their outdoorsyness becomes much to our dismay as well when they decide to use our front yard for their field of play, whether it be football, chase, or soccer. They don't bother anything, but it really drives Husband batty for them to be all up in our front yard and driveway without permission. Kinda bugs me too, but short of going out and fussing at them, I'm not quite sure what to do. When they're in the front yard, we do allow Argus to bark at them all he wants. Not quite the action we would prefer, but annoying, none the less.

Non English Speaking Neighbors...where to begin? That's what you really want to hear about, isn't it? I'll try to remember everything that's gone on since my last update, but I'm sure I'll leave something out. They've mainly been up to their normal, completely annoying habits. You know, living outside, never closing their back door or windows (so that we can revel in the joy of their everyday lives), letting their kids do whatever they want. Including, but not limited to, poking sticks and long strands of grass thru the fence at the dogs, and throwing rocks at and over the fence at the dogs while screaming "Dog! Dog!" in their native language. Oh, and the trash. Apparently they've filled their own yard with trash to the point that it's overflowing, because we've had quite a bit of it end up in our yard lately. And some toys too - at least I suspect the toys belong to them. No way to know for sure, because they won't ask for them back. But OTKids usually come over within 3.7 seconds to get their toys back when they come over the fence, so I'm guessing these others belong to NESN.

I've caught them in the act a few times lately - actually in the process of banging on the fence to get the dogs to come over, yelling at them, then poking something at them or throwing rocks at them. Of course, being the kind, English-speaking person that I am, I yelled at them in a language they are completely oblivious to. They just stared at me through the cracks in the fence like I had 3 heads or something. One day, I noticed the older kid outside with them - the one that speaks English and loves to climb fences and play outside naked...anyway, I stood on the gas meter (sorry, gas company), got his attention, and told him I didn't appreciate the little ones throwing stuff into my yard, and would he please ask them to stop. He understood me - at least he said he did, and then said something to the little kids. It was probably something like, "She likes it - throw more rocks."

But all of a sudden in the past couple of weeks, they got very quiet. At first, we just counted our blessings that the dogs could be outside without rocks and refuse raining down on them. Then, we held our breath, waiting for the shower of trash to begin again. Then, I finally decided that they'd started playing out in the front yard with the other neighborhood kids on their street. Or that maybe somebody got a fat clue and put a stop to the rock tossing contests. Wrong, all wrong.

I found out this past weekend from a little round-ish man with white hair carrying a clipboard, camera, and measuring tape that their house is in the process of being repossessed. He was there checking the place out on behalf of the mortgage company. That news comes with mixed feelings. First, elation, because the NESNs are gone, and I won't have to worry about them throwing their half-crushed Coke cans and millions of gray rocks into my yard anymore. Then fear, because who knows who the mortgage company will sell the house to? Hopefully they'll at least speak English so that if they decide to live in their back yard, leave their windows and doors open for the world to hear their life, keep livestock, have annoyingly loud parties late into the night, allow their children to play naked in the yard, train for the shot-put with tons of gray rocks, learn their aiming skills by poking things through the fence, and are just generally annoying, I can at least talk to them about it.