Yards and Neighbors

A few months ago I was helping a friend get ready for a big party at her house and she asked me if I’d go with her to a local nursery to buy some things.

So off we went. Upon arrival she proceeded to pile up one of those big pallet-style carts with all manner of decorative flowers, plants and herbs, adding anything that struck her fancy seemingly without thought.

She didn’t spend hours obsessing over which plants were cheapest, and comparing every aspect of every item under consideration to every aspect of every other item in the store, to ensure she wouldn’t regret her purchase and/or get less perceived value for her buck.

Then she dropped a few bennies on her selections and we loaded up her car, drove back to her house and started decorating her already very attractive yard with the new additions. It was so simple and beautiful.

This was an informative experience, wholly unlike every other trip to a store in my life. Because I have NEVER walked into a store and just purchased what I liked or wanted without thinking about it cost. I have never decided on an item (except in the dollar store) without looking for a price tag and doing a mental evaluation. I do this with food, with clothes, with home-supplies, with repairs. With everything.

It’s actually kind of exhausting.

Even in thrift stores, I check to see if the price of the item matches some arbitrary “value meter” that runs nonstop in my brain. This trait of mine has probably saved us thousands of dollars over the years, but it has hidden costs.

As I was working in my yard yesterday morning, I was thinking about how much I’d love for our yard to be a place that I could spend time and enjoy. That it would be a place of beauty and stocked with and pleasant things to eat, see, and smell. I’d also love to have some kind of moving water out there, to listen to because I totally LOVE that.

Unfortunately there are a few things that are standing between me and a peaceful yard being a reality. First is money (isn’t it always?!) We need a new fence which is a big expense. Beyond that, landscaping plants and supplies cost a lot. But, even if we had a new fence and beautiful landscaping, there is the Issue of Terry to deal with.

Terry is our next door neighbor. When we first moved in, he was cordial and reasonably pleasant. We had a few conversations. Never to the “Heidi-Ho Neighbor” point, but it was fine. Sometimes I’d mow his lawn when I finished with ours. I once raked up all his fall leaves. I took a plate of cookies over for the holidays, and left him other neighbor gifts. (he doesn’t answer his door. I should learn from him).

But for some reason that I can’t identify, he stopped being Mr. Reasonably Pleasant neighbor, and has turned into Mr. You Don’t Want To Spend Any Time Within Earshot Of My Property neighbor. Because he yells CONSTANTLY.

Not just yelling, but vulgar, profane, nasty, insulting, lewd things. His outbursts are more reliable than a Timex watch. And they’re nasty enough to embarrass hardened criminals. If he’s home, he’s yelling. He’s yelling as his car door opens, he yells when people are around, and when people aren’t around. He’s out of control, and I feel limited to staying inside my house much of the time because of him.

One of the reasons I liked this house in the first place was because of it’s yard. The previous owners had obviously taken time to keep it up. I know they employed a lawn service to care for the grass. It looked fabulous. But over the past three years it has fallen into disgrace by comparison, because of my neglect and lack of funds. And a part of my neglect has to do with Terry, and my desire to avoid him no matter what. It’s just become awkward to cross paths.

I know he’s mentally ill. Doc wonders about Tourette Syndrome, even though it’s not a really good fit. I mean, the stereotype of yelling profanities is about the only piece that does. I’m pretty sure he’s drunk a lot of the time, gauging from the sheer number of cases of beer in his garbage can every week. And I know that he’s not actually talking to me. But I honestly feel so affronted by the stuff I hear coming out of his mouth that I almost feel violated. I haven’t gotten to the point where I wish the man would be visited by the Grim Reaper, but I wouldn’t be complaining if he retained the services of the Grim Realtor tomorrow. Or today.

I try to keep my perspective about things by imagining that he has some horrible disease, and that he feels really terrible about how vulgar he is, and that he stopped being neighborly with us because he’s so embarrassed about it, and that he’s suffering even worse than me emotionally, and is depressed and hates his life. Thinking about him like that helps me feel compassion, because I can’t honestly imagine he’s a happy man.

I don’t know how I started out writing about shopping and ended up lambasting my neighbor. I’m scatterbrained these days, so lets all deal with it.

Grateful for:

1) Comparatively better mental health than many people.
2) Step 2 of the Medical Boards Exam is over!!!!
3) The hope that someday I will be able to justify buying lots of plants.