So, Henry summarized this whole situation, but let me give you some background.
We seem to have a neighbor that embraces his inner grunge. I have no issue with it for the most part. "Live and let live" I say. Who am I to question digging a moat in your side yard, or having a dead car garden in the back, or even the various half built storage buildings...it is his yard after all...However, this past spring one of the boys decided to build a race track in his side yard for his dirt bike. When I say dirt bike, I am not meaning the dirt bike of my ancient history which meant a trick bicycle with lots of dirt on it. I mean the motorized, loud muffler, kind of dirt bike.
Again though, it isn’t my yard so I am not going to complain…it isn’t my way. (well I might complain, but I am not going to make him change….)
This track, was a labor of love between a teenage boy and his front end loader. He worked on this endlessly until now; the path is right through our road right of way, and in danger of compromising the integrity of our road.
In our effort to maintain our property values, and our desire to not have our road collapse and run into the man made moat of death, we thought “let’s plant trees along our right of way”
Seems like a simple thing right? So we ran a line to show us where the right of way that we owned on our private road was, and intended on coming in about 3 or 4 feet so that our trees would never encroach on moat mans dirt bike path. We went over and explained to the mother (who was the only one home) that we didn’t care if they kept the track but we wanted to plant trees etc…
WELL, this turned into the father coming over to us at the bus stop and screaming profanities at one of the fathers, with threats of pigs coming to reside on the property line they share, 30 dogs coming to live with him, and countless other threats of red-neckery.
That afternoon the kids came home wide eyed and said “that man said the F-word” we discussed how this was not a real adult conversation and I did the entire “mom” explaining on better ways to handle it…
Henry looks over and says “Did he say the F#%$ word?”
Yes, he did. He did not say “f-word” he actually SAID THE WORD.
That’s my mister man…just stating the facts…
I am dreading Kindergarten.