I really should post pictures. This little saga is continuing to play out, albeit slowly, like a twenty-hour experimental art house film that highbrows pretend to understand.
Remember my rants about the jungle path? It's worse. Seriously, this thing is its own ecosystem, especially when the in-need-of-repair sprinkler system kicks on and leaks...all...over...the...place. There are critters. I have heard them scampering. And at night?
Well, at night, the tenants/neighbors/jacklegs/whatever-you-want-to-call-them have taken to leaving the door to the room under the house open, and a light on. Hellooooo, opossums and raccoons! Why don't y'all come right on in? I can't wait to hear the result of one of them meeting a woodland creature when they eventually decide to tarry down that way again. And how do I know they are going to do that?
They've acquired.....
.....
A LAWNMOWER!
And it's sitting right inside that open door.
Of course, I wonder why they didn't close the door. I think, maybe, they want to show people they have the equipment in order to feign the appearance of intending to get to clearing the jungle path someday. They could just be proud of the thing. I wonder if they're as proud of the gas can that's propping the door to under their house open?
And it's just dawned on me that there might be gas in that gas can.
The gas can that is sitting outside, open, about eight feet away from my house, under their wooden deck.
Oh, holy hell.
2 comments:
You have seen A Christmas Story, I suppose? Your whole narrative just dares to imagine the Bumpuses next door with their wild dogs running around the kitchen. "Get the shotgun, dear, we're huntin' critters for dinner!"
Trust me, if they had dogs, it would happen!
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