ISH

   Anyone who lives alone knows, that you don't so much talk to yourself, as you talk to "things". I talk to the chair, the fucking computer, the cat (Ray is missing), the TV, the floor, the wall, etc. I have just spent a good ten minutes screaming at the computer and interogating Nicole as to Ray's disappearance. I'm getting nowhere. This is indicative of the way things have been going. I've made some references to the neighbors in past posting. Let me catch you up. But first a brief history.

   I bought WSSP by default, as the high bidder did not pony up the deposit. I think the high bidder was someone in my neighbor's house hold, which includes his wife and her boyfriend. I'm pretty sure it was the wife and or boyfriend. I don't think the husband was involved. But that's just a gut feeling. Even though the original condition of my house was dismal, the view across the road wasn't so bad. There was a little unpainted one car garage and a ramshackle 70's motor home next to a little parking area. It, of course had been part of the original farm. But years ago the land had been sold off to save the house. The house was sitting on less than a half acre. That's what I now owned.

   As soon as I mowed the lawn, even before I ripped off one asbestos shingle, the caution tape and spray painted "NO TRESPASSING" warning went up across the road. My house is about 30 feet from this property. I tried to nip it in the bud. I introduced myself, told the wife, and eventually the husband, my plans to restore, and either keep or sell. They seemed cool about my presence and I went forward, working on the place. Then the upside down, scowling Satan went up, as did posted signs on every tree, more caution tape, 3 bikes, and a jungle of high grass. It would be comical if it was happening to someone else.

   It's now two years later. I sold it to Samm a year ago and have worked on it since. The house is on its way to becoming really nice home. As an art work it is holding it's own. Major drainage and water issues have been overcome, but still we do not have a drilled well. We have a toilet. We do not have a flush. AND we still have neighbor issues. WHATTHEFUCK? I don't get it. Then today, it came to a head. No guns were involved. I simply turned it over to Samm, and her ease with people, and diplomacy. The husband called me this morning and gave me his wife's cell #. "She'll know what it's about? I asked. "Oh yes." he replied. Two can play at this game. I gave the # to Samm. She was scared, but she did it. I kinda insisted. 

   I was prepared to have her be a bitch or maybe open negotiations. Neither happened. She held her twisted ground with a litiny of reasons. The caution tape? Oh that's because someone sued a neighbor for 2 million dollars and won. Satan? It's so hard to decorate the barn for Halloween- they just leave it up. The bikes? Oh they'd been dropped off at sis's and she hoped someone would take them. The grass? They just like it long. "She's sweet." Samm said.

    I was not prepared for such evil.