Somewhere along the line, I forgot that I wanted to have a blog ~ started it, then forgot it for two years. Good thing I didn't forget the kids, they don't usually last two years shoved in virtual corner and ignored. Well, now they're grown and probably wish I would ignore them, at least occasionally.
Spring is definitely here, and mostly that's a fah-boo-liss concept, except at home. For some reason that is completely beyond my ken, my neighbors feel compelled to share their music with me. On the surface, this might seem a generous thing, after all, we teach children to share their toys. But music is different. Is it wrong of me to be annoyed when my neighbor's stereo produces a bass line which rattles my fillings? Am I a bitch if I don't like hearing their music over the TV which is in the same room I am? Is it selfish to think three a.m. is better for sleeping than blasting the sub-woofer? I miss open windows when the lilacs are in bloom. Is it like this everywhere?
Neighbors used to be people you wanted to get to know. They were people you chatted with over the fence. Now, they are scary people who let their pit bulls run free to exercise, swear at you (profusely) for suggesting that six feet from your bedroom window is not the best place for their basketball hoop, and yell at you for getting "all up in mah bizness" without even asking if you were, in fact, the person who called the poh-lice.
They're actually gone this afternoon. It is blissfully quiet. Even the dogs seem to be gone. Maybe it's a dogfight and they'll get busted ~ of course, the neighbors have been going downhill, so I'm not sure we want to spin that old roulette wheel again. It could get worse; after all, whoever thought we'd long for the drug dealer neighbor? Ah, life in the hood.
Spring is definitely here, and mostly that's a fah-boo-liss concept, except at home. For some reason that is completely beyond my ken, my neighbors feel compelled to share their music with me. On the surface, this might seem a generous thing, after all, we teach children to share their toys. But music is different. Is it wrong of me to be annoyed when my neighbor's stereo produces a bass line which rattles my fillings? Am I a bitch if I don't like hearing their music over the TV which is in the same room I am? Is it selfish to think three a.m. is better for sleeping than blasting the sub-woofer? I miss open windows when the lilacs are in bloom. Is it like this everywhere?
Neighbors used to be people you wanted to get to know. They were people you chatted with over the fence. Now, they are scary people who let their pit bulls run free to exercise, swear at you (profusely) for suggesting that six feet from your bedroom window is not the best place for their basketball hoop, and yell at you for getting "all up in mah bizness" without even asking if you were, in fact, the person who called the poh-lice.
They're actually gone this afternoon. It is blissfully quiet. Even the dogs seem to be gone. Maybe it's a dogfight and they'll get busted ~ of course, the neighbors have been going downhill, so I'm not sure we want to spin that old roulette wheel again. It could get worse; after all, whoever thought we'd long for the drug dealer neighbor? Ah, life in the hood.
