ptooey, he said...

Friday, May 18, 2007

Meanwhile, at the Post Office...

...Granules of crushed chickpeas left in an unidentified small plastic bag at the post office make for a hazardous materials threat....

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I realize that we all need to be on constant lookout for terrorists, but there's a fine line. This has become a joke.



I want some hummus now.

Hell in a Handbasket

hiccup and I moved into our current house nearly nine years ago. We love the house, and at the time we loved the neighborhood. It's quiet, and the people were friendly and down to earth. A lot has changed over the course of those nine years, and the residents of the neighborhood have changed as well.

I'm about at my wit's end with a few of our neighbors. I don't think I'm being unreasonable, really. I've spouted off a few complaints here at the ol' blog from time to time, but things are sort of spiraling out of control. It is now to the point where I have thought, for the first time in nearly a decade, about moving elsewhere.

The people across the street from us moved in last summer. They yell at each other a lot. The man of the house prefers to not wear a shirt...ever. And we've heard some genuinely disturbing rumors about his past. I tend not to take a lot of stock in that sort of talk, but in this guy's case, I'm beginning to wonder. He creeps hiccup out. She prefers to not hang out much in the front yard now.

The house next to ours on the south side is a rental. There have been 4 different sets of renters there since we moved in, and for the most part we've gotten along well with them. The latest family was pleasant enough for a while, but things have gotten weird. Originally, it was the current guy and a woman he'd met just 6 weeks before. They lived with her daughter and periodically his son. Both kids are the same age. The little girl was very slow, mentally, but a nice enough kid. The boy is trouble. A while back, he decided that all of his friends had missing teeth, so he should be missing some too. So he pulled them. All of them. Himself. To say that something's not right with the kid would be an understatement of epic proportions. He moved in permanently with them a couple of years ago. Suffice to say we don't let our kids play with him much. The couple got married a few months after they moved into the house. Last month, the lady suddenly moved out with her daughter. The very next day, another woman moved in with her 3 kids. Family stability is clearly not a priority for this guy. We have had multiple encounters with them over the course of the last 2 years because their dog is eating the fence between our houses (he jumps up the 6' fence to bark at us and chews the tops of the cedar boards.) The same dog has also stripped most of the siding from the back side of their house. They don't seem to have a problem with it. I don't put up with my own dogs tearing up my stuff, much less somebody else's.

The house on the north side is getting to be the worst. When we first bought our house, it was occupied by an older couple who were both very pleasant. The gentleman passed away 6 or 7 years ago. The lady lived there alone for a while, but remarried and moved out. She sold the house to her daughter and son-in-law. I have referred to them as Mr. and Mrs. Weightlifterguy in the past here at ptooeyhesaid. The daughter and her husband seemed like nice enough people at first, but have gotten steadily more annoying over the course of the last 3 years. First, we got irritated with the insane amount of stuff they accumulated. At one time, they owned 7 cars, all parked along the street. They have a corner lot, so they just spread out the collection in front of their house, and eventually in front of ours. Then they got a snowmobile trailer. Then a fifth wheel camper. Then 3 motorcycles. Then, 2 pitbulls. Christmas night, 3 years ago, they and some guests got into a HUGE fight just outside our bedroom window. I'm not talking argument here, I'm talking fistfight. Drunken, profane screeching, blows landed, cops called, redneck fun. At 3AM.

Now, apparently, Mrs. Weightlifterguy has moved out of the house, and Weightlifterguy's sister and nephew haved moved in. There are also 4 children there, and another young woman who must be the nephew's girlfriend. The car stereo encounter I wrote about last month was with the sister and nephew. They are very, very rough folks. Weightlifterguy's sister is one of those people who lives in a constant state of high drama. She also believes that there is no problem or situation that cannot be resolved if she just yells loud enough. She's a real charmer. Monday night, she was screaming at someone over the phone while standing on their back deck. hiccup had to ask her to keep it down after she had yelled "F*CK YOU!!!!" about 5 times - our kids' rooms are closest to their deck, and they had just gone to bed. The harpy's reply was that hiccup should mind her own business.

Yesterday, hiccup called to let me know that Weightlifterguy was sitting on the back deck with a tattoo gun, giving his nephew a tattoo.

Our backyard is our favorite place in the world, and now we're finding ourselves unable (or at least unwilling) to spend any time there. I don't know what to do.

Friday, May 11, 2007

Freecycle is on a Roll

Wanted ....

ok here is my list of wantsFans that work wood for building a play house
and fire wood femalegoat who can be milked.

Tracy



Possibly also some punctuation and functional spacebar and shift keys.

recieved
thank you for the Chickens they are a great addition to our
flock andthey seem to get along well with our girls.

Tracy

Please note that these two entries are from the same person.

Thursday, May 10, 2007

The Attachment to Objects

Last month, my dad drove my brother's old car to our house so that I could see if I could sell it. My parents were afraid that it might bother them to sell it in their town and run the risk of seeing it drive by on a regular basis. Fair enough, says I.

The car was bought and paid for by my brother with money he'd earned from a couple of summer jobs while he was still in high school. It's a Saab 900, and he purchased it from a lady in Salt Lake City who babied it. It was always a nice car, and he was very proud of it.

When I got it from dad, there were a couple of problems that needed to be addressed before I thought that it would be fit to sell. Firstly, the heater control was stuck on full blast, which made warm weather driving a bit uncomfortable. A visit to eBay and $15 got me a heater control rod to replace the broken part. Secondly, a mechanic in Laramie had botched up the installation of a new fuel pump, and the car had always smelled of gasoline. Okay, it smelled STRONGLY of gasoline...Okay, okay, it reeked. It's actually a pretty common problem for Saab 900s, because the fuel pump is accessible from the passenger compartment. I did a little research, bought some parts from a Saab specialty website, and pulled the pump out. I replaced the seal and retaining ring, put it back in. Lo and behold, it now just smells like an old car. Sweet, sweet sense of accomplishment.

Monday afternoon, I put a FOR SALE sign in the window and parked it in at the front of the parking lot where I work.

Yesterday afternoon, I got a call from a gentleman interested in the car. Turns out he was very interested, and I had a check in hand 45 minutes later. Nice, but in a way it makes me sad. That car was one of the things that most reminded me of my brother. I find it odd that my parents hung onto it in their garage for 5 1/2 years when it bothered them to even look at it. It's weird to me that an object can affect any of us this way. The thing is just a car - a hunk of metal. But, the last memory I have of my bro was of him driving off in that thing one late summer evening. Now, I may see it running around town. And so it goes.

Tuesday, May 08, 2007

Freecycle: Be Afraid

DESPERATELY NEEDED: GUN
I need a gun in working condition - rifle like a
.22 or even handgun.I will get it registered in my name. My horse was chased
tonight by atan pitt or Golden Retriever and Metro told me to get a gun
ASAP.PLEASE let me know if you have one you can part with or know of areliable
place to get one.THANKSBritt


Oh, FYI, Metro in this case is Metro Animal Control. I don't really see them telling someone to "get a gun." Just a hunch.

Friday, May 04, 2007

A Lesson in Tact, From hiccup

hiccup has been doing quite a lot of volunteer work for our daughters' schools this year. She's been on several committees at C's, including one to help hire a new principal.

That committee had a meeting this morning, and she ran into a shamelessly self-promotional witch of a woman who is on another committee with her. A conversation took place in which the she-devil mentioned how she had started her own business, volunteers time pretty much everywhere, has found a cure for death, and in her spare time she likes to let everyone on earth know just exactly how wonderful she is.

The reactions of some people to hiccup's being a stay-at-home mom have become a steady source of irritation for her over the last 7 years, and when it came up this time, I think she may have hit upon the perfect response:

Wonder Woman: "So, do you work?"
hiccup: "I stay home with the kids."
Wonder Woman: "And does that make you happy?"
hiccup: "I am positively giddy."