Last night at quarter to 11, our doorbell rang. We weren’t expecting anyone, so Hubby and I were pretty freaked. He dashed downstairs and opened the door to…
A county police officer.
Seems our crotchety, crabby, scroogey next door neighbor called the cops on us. Charming man.
You see, we’re still in the midst of construction. Yesterday, the electric company had to come move a power line. They used some fancy dancy equipment, and supposedly ran over Grinch’s lawn in the process. Later, Grinch stormed up my driveway and started yelling at some other workers who were here to install heating and cooling stuff. They referred him to the power company, and tuned him out. Our builder later went over to smooth things over with him – and nicely pointed out AGAIN, that the power company did it, and he should really talk to them about it.
So, anyway. HOURS after all that, we have the police at our door. Charming. They didn’t do anything, didn’t say much. It will probably be a non-issue. But it resulted in Hubby and I ordering our land survey today. We’re checking the property lines and staking them out – and come spring? We’re putting up a fence.
I have another neighbor who swears: “Good fences make good neighbors.” I hate to feel like we NEED to put up a fence. It’s something Hubby and I have talked about before, as we really would like to get a puppy next year – so a fenced yard would be a good thing… But to keep our neighbors away? We never thought we had to.
But, the Grinch? He apparently needs it spelled out for him. This is OUR yard. That is YOUR yard. You stay in your yard, and we’ll stay in ours.
It’s really kind of sad.
I hope he moves.
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