Neighbors Again

It’s going to be a long summer.

I’ve blogged a few times about the new neighbors in the small rental house across the street. As best I can tell, there seem to be parents and a couple of teen boys who actually live there, but since the menagerie of children changes hourly, I can’t be entirely sure. There are bigs and littles, girls and boys, elementary, middle school, toddlers…

And I’m not a kid person. I don’t hate them, exactly. The old saying is children should be seen and not heard, but I sort of prefer they be neither seen nor heard.

There’s the basketball hoop monopolizing the street, the ball spending more time in our yard due to the slope than on the actual “court,” and the piles of worn plastic toys. There is a hobby horse that looks alarmingly like one I had when I was a kid…and I was born in the 1960s. Pretty sure there’s some sort of consumer safety issue there.

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Now I’ve been treated to bald, shirtless, paunchy guy hanging out in the yard–the father, I’m assuming.

Then a four-person tent appeared in the front yard. Not the side yard, of which there is roughly a half acre, or the back yard. Right in front. Presumably to accommodate kid-overflow. I think the mother does daycare, but who the hell knows?

Now we have a new sight to behold. The other morning I heard an engine and thought, “Yay, they’re mowing their yard.” But it kept going. For a long time. I peeked through the blinds, and thought it was a strange way to mow, going all over the place. Oh, and up and down the street too.

Huh. It’s not a lawnmower at all. Not anymore. Now it is a former lawnmower with the mowing bits removed, serving as an ATV, and kids are driving it around. Which I’m fairly sure isn’t especially safe.

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The giant blue tent would be just out of frame to the right.

The only thing I’m clinging to at this point is they do not have a dog. Because if they had a dog tied in the yard or roaming at large, Steps Would Be Taken.

The summer may be long, but I’m hoping their lease is short.

Good Boundaries Make Good Neighbors

I’m not a people person, but I’m especially not a kid person. The only one I’ve ever cared about was mine, and he’ll be 34 tomorrow, so even that is well in the past. I do not want to hold your baby. I don’t want to hear the cute thing your toddler just did. I am not even remotely interested in your daughter’s dance recital.

However, if your puppy caught a grasshopper, I totally want to hear about that in great detail.

As I mentioned in THIS post and THIS other post, we have new occupants in the rental K1361house across the street, and this is causing me some anxiety. When we moved here four years ago, it was occupied by a 30-something single woman with an elderly dog, and then a couple of young Marines. They were good, quiet, friendly, but boundary-respecting neighbors, and I was okay with that.

A little more than a month ago, people appeared over there. I had a hard time figuring out who the residents were, as the various individuals spotted seemed to vary. But after a month of observation, I’m fairly sure the ones who live there are a woman and two younger-teen boys.

Yes, I realize the “normal” thing to do would be to walk over there to say hello and introduce myself. If you don’t know anything else about me, you should be aware that “normal” is not a word ever used in any way regarding my social skills and interactions, unless it’s prefaced by “ab-“.

My issues come from the numerous other children who are there on a regular basis. The woman must do some sort of daycare, either for relatives or as a business, as two toddlers (maybe more…honestly, kids all kind of look the same to me) are usually present. There are also a boy and a girl of approximately middle school age. Maybe others. I should probably keep some sort of logbook.

This is a lot of kids.

Plastic outdoor toys started to show up in the yard. Then a portable basketball hoop was placed at the end of the street. Our house and theirs are the last on our respective sides of the dead-end street, and I have to admit that’s a pretty good setup for a basketball hoop. What they don’t know, however, is that patch where the road ends is considered overflow parking for our two houses. We only have a small gravel drive in the front of the house, so if you have company, that’s where they go.

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Kid-faces blocked, because even I realize that’s kind of wrong.

Now the truly horrifying part. I’ve noticed these kids, who are definitely school age other than the toddler-types, are present throughout the day. Know what that means? Home school. These other kids who I don’t think live there–it’s only a two-bedroom house–might be part of the home school setup. Maybe she has some sort of cooperative with other families in her church or something. She has a “pray” sticker on her truck, and that seems like the sort of things church families probably do.

I’ve also noticed the boys tend to be out playing basketball at very regular times, suggesting home school “recess.” Our late-great dogs Darwin and Brody would’ve been very upset by this, slinging bark-drool all over the front windows and destroying the blinds. Mozzie and Oliver will take off barking if they hear a distinct noise or kid-related squealing, but other than that are doing pretty well. In fact, I have a feeling Mozzie might actually like kids–much to my dismay–because he’ll sit at the window quietly and watch them play.

I’m generally the tense, curmudgeonly one…but for some reason this basketball hoop is bothering Tom a lot more than I’d expect. The ball bounces into our front yard, and he gets all territorial. I’m supposed to be the territorial one. He’s supposed to be the laid-back, friendly, tolerant one who will chat with the neighbors when they cross paths outside, finding out who they are and letting them know we’re harmless but have definite boundaries. Now I’m finding myself saying things like, “It’s no big deal. They’re not hurting anything,” when I’m more accustomed to saying, “They’re out there…all the damned time.”

I don’t like it. I don’t like any of it. I have this shifting herd of non-adult humans running around out there, and I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel about it. Luckily, the room where I spend 90% of my time is in the back of our house, away from the road.

I’m really, really glad they don’t appear to have a dog, though. A dog running around out there would not be appreciated by my dogs–or by me.

Who Are The People In My Neighborhood?

I’ve slacked a bit on my scoping-out of the new neighbors in the rental house across the street, and I’m still not sure exactly who lives there and which of the numerous people I see are just visiting or helping them settle in.

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In addition to the dark SUV, there’s now frequently a white pickup there as well. Night before last there was a third truck parked at the end of the street–at ten p.m.–and some guys had lights on it and were doing something which seemed to involve a large rolling jack like they use in auto racing. Whatever they were doing, it rated very high on the “my dogs must bark themselves into a frenzy” scale.

I’ve observed the small humans seem to primarily be there on weekdays during traditional work hours, which continues to support my hypothesis that the woman does some sort of home daycare, either as a job or for family members. I’ve regularly seen 3-5 kids, and they all seem to be taken elsewhere by evening.

I  told Tom I thought this was preferable to them actually having a bunch of kids. He wasn’t sure why. But if there are several children, maybe in some sort of shared custody situation, there’s the potential for a bunch of them running around the yard and street day and night. So, kids that go away are slightly better than those who don’t.

Today, Tom called my attention to several boys unloading items from a trailer in the driveway. The unusual bit was they were all wearing white shirts, black pants, and ties. I have no idea what to make of this. Religious minions? Sheldon Cooper or Alex P. Keaton wannabes?

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For those of you under 40 who have no idea who Alex P. Keaton is…here you go. Michael J. Fox before he was Marty McFly.

The religious aspect is a distinct possibility, which is of some concern because I am slightly allergic to such things. The black vehicle has a “pray” sticker on the back, and since they arrived, whenever I step out the front door, the air crackles with electrical energy, making my skin tingle, and I break out in brimstone.

I told Tom if they turn out to be Jehovah’s Witnesses and come knocking on my door, I could answer wearing my devil horns and offer to introduce them to my dog Cerberus. Tom thinks this would not be very neighborly, so I’ve agreed to revert to my usual door-answering strategy, which is simply not to do it. Besides, I only have two dogs, which leaves me one dog-head short of pulling off the whole Cerberus thing.

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Wonder if these guys are busy…

So, surveillance continues. Eventually, there will be some sort of interaction (Tom, not me…obviously) and all questions will be answered. But for now, I’m gathering clues and theorizing worst case scenarios. This way, no matter what we eventually find out, it will be better than what’s been going on inside my head.