Unexplored Territory

Monday, July 16, 2007

More than a village

I live on a very busy street.

One of the things we didn't even think of when we bought this house was the fact that there is a business across the street, and that this street is just.... busy.

Another thing we didn't think of when we bought this house was how our fence ends right where our neighbor's property begins.

I promise, there will be cohesiveness in the end.

Since moving into this house, we have witnessed many a show here.

There were those two lesbians who stopped at our corner, and started making out. Much to the delight of Ace, of course.

Then there were those times when the business across the street would have a false fire alarm. Let me tell you, though... their response time: wonderful.

We live down the street from a home for mentally challenged individuals, so they have ambulance runs every once in a while.

Then there was that time when it was really icy out, and a cop decided that he was going to do a little Roscoe P. Coltraine.... gechgechgech... and tear down our street at over 50 some miles an hour. We weren't surprised when we heard him crash into something down the way, thereby bringing on the ambulance... again.

There was another time when the utility pole right across the street from us ... I mean, literally right across the street ... decided that it had had enough, so it snapped. And the line was down on the ground. And people just kept driving down our street. One van got zapped pretty good. It was rather entertaining.

Today was just another day ... some woman decided that she needed to break the utility pole across the street. Not the one that broke on its own... the one down from it. I have NO idea what happened ... but she RAN into it, full force. She escaped pretty much unscathed, but she did end up going to the hospital. It brought out everyone .. people were all standing around, speculating as to the cause of why she hit it. Of course, our down the street neighbor, the Neighborhood Watch Program himself, came down on his bike and uttered these words:

So. Bring me up to speed. What happened?

Just like that. Like ... he was there gathering information for a news story. I gave him what information I had, and then sent my kids inside. Once inside, I received a phone call from him. He was calling to let me know that I had it all wrong ... that she was driving westbound and ran right into the pole, as opposed to my theory that she had backed up and must have gotten the accelerator and the brake confused. Thanks, Bill. I will sleep SO much better tonight knowing that.

Of course, I did have a visit from the shoeless Robin ... she had just gotten out of the bathroom. Yeah. It brought out EVERYone, people.

They cleared everything away, but the power people were STILL working on the pole when I came home from teaching class, some six hours later.

So where does my neighbor fit into all of this?

I want to sell my house. I want to sell it badly.

My neighbor ... well, he's a piece of work himself. His favorite pastime is stand around with his shirt off, beer belly exposed, smoking a cigarette and finding SOME other way to improve his property. I am sure he just looks at our house with our swingset out back and screaming kids in the yard and wishes we would just leave.

But I have to plan these things accordingly. I need to (1) make sure that he isn't home during a showing and (2) call 911 to make sure that they don't use my street for any of their emergencies. Do you think that will work?

Because it is going to take more than a village to sell this house.

Labels: house selling, our neighborhood

I'm a mom of three peeps ... Queen Bee, The Door Man, and the Chandelier Monkey, and wife to Ace, the Helpful Hardware Man. I created this space to get away from the people known as my inlaws, and because life with three kids and a hubby is all Unexplored Territory.

The nine-year-old who seems to be growing older every minute, has an opinion and a comment for everything, and has a true servant's heart.

The seven-year-old who loves the organization of things, will someday be someone's therapist because of his kind soul, and will more than likely be living with us until he is 40 years old.

The five-year-old with the 13-year-old attitude, who has a dictator's personality, asks you to watch her all the time and say "hold on" to keep your attention, and will someday come home on the back of some dude's motorcycle with 10 tatts and a body piercing or two.

The man of the house, the fixer of things, the winner of prizes, and the only person in his family to escape the South.