Over it...

No more Jackass Neighbor obsession. (For now.) I have a home to create and many, many creative passions and outlets to explore. I also have an adorable, eccentric husband who requires almost constant supervision and gleefully breaks every little domestic guideline I try to set up. One violation, in particular, is keenly vexing and has the potential to push me straight around the bend before the year is out.

And what is that? It is a man thing involving the screen door and our deck. And that's all I can tell you. Well, scratch that, I can also tell you that I am sick and tired of discovering that it's been done yet again almost every single morning.

Sometimes I feel I am losing my will to fight. I have fought long and hard to have the house I planned before his arrival, put the process on hold, enacted several failed starts, and have finally figured out ways to keep him happy and have the home I want. Practically everything I have done or proposed be done until this point has been playfully ignored and undone. I have tried everything to figure out why he seems to resent the idea of a nice, but still decidedly eclectic, home. (I did not grow up in a barn, therefore, having to do so at this stage of the game is not a freaking option.) In the end, I've realized that he is afraid that having this will mean he's told he cannot move freely any longer. He resents the concept because it represents pretense, stiffness and, false, controlling "shoulds". And I suspect he's getting back at someone, or something, by perpetuating his insistence upon living in a bloody disaster.

But what I can't figure out is what the hell he has against the deck.

What the whoa?

Sadly, I have tried to get a picture of this through two windows. I am not sad, the fact that I did so is sad. Right. Anyway, I don't have the nerve to open the front door and get a picture.

There is a moving van in the driveway next door.

Yes, at *that* house. The infamous Jackass Neighbor/Jungle Path abode, the one where the insult-hurling, trash can-flinging woman lives.

One thing - I don't know if things are being moved out or in. She was back, briefly, and then the truck appeared this evening.

And, yes, we are still in search of a hobby.

A mystery...

Yes, yes, I know I've carried on about the woman next door who called us stupid honkies and crackers. Most of the summer, I complained wholeheartedly about the condition of the property she and her husband rent next door to us. You're familiar with them. I know this.

Yes, I am having coffee. ANYWAY...

We've noticed that she's gone. POOF! She left some time on Sunday. Her car was there Sunday morning, then gone, and it has not come back. We're all the way up to Friday with no crazy lady next door. Didgeridoo Boy thinks she might have been sent packing. I think she's probably gone someplace for the holiday, but he disagrees.

Have I mentioned that we are kind of in the market for an enriching social life?

And as an added bonus...

I need to add this, simply because it warms my heart so. Not only are Didgeridoo Boy and I stupid honkies, we are also crackers according to our ever-so-charming next door neighbor. I didn't hear her shout that bit, but it was part of her rant out the front door. I don't know if we're *stupid* crackers or not. And I'd ask, but I'm afraid she'll fling another trash can into the back of one of our cars.

So allow me to be politically incorrect for a minute. If she's doing it, why can't I, right? I won't be diving into the land of racial slurs (because, let's face it, if I do it I am quite likely to get toasted legally), I'm just going to call it like I see it.

This woman is nuts. It's that simple. She's not any particular kind of nut, not a stupid one, not an ugly one, she's just flat out nuts.

I am thinking of trying to find a fun little flag to hang by our front door that clearly depicts either crackers or a pair of bicycle horns (honkies). Let her put that in her crazy pipe and smoke it.

We are back, and we are stupid honkies...

Last night, Didgeridoo Boy and I were called "stupid honkies" and were told to shut up by our next door neighbor. She was shouting out of her front door as we came home from a party.

Friday, she glared at me while I was sweeping the front walk.

Last week, she acted like Didgeridoo Boy was an intruder when he went back to his car to get something after work. He said he thought he'd scared the neighbors.

Would this be one of the jackass neighbors with the much-lamented jungle path (that's been cleaned up)? Yep. This is the woman who threw a trash can against the back of Didge's car.

Are we safe in saying she seems crazy yet?