Monday, September 29, 2008
Rockwell to Hopper
A couple of my favorite painters are a pretty good example of how I'm feeling right now about our new house. Up until a couple of weeks ago, it was like living in a Norman Rockwell painting. Cool neighbors, little kids playing in the street, and beautiful back yards. Then the new guy moved in. I suppose you have to bear in mind that before him, we were one of the new guys.
I got home and the first thing I noticed was the beginnings of a chain link fence. There aren't that many fences around here. It turned out he had three big dogs. The previous owner of his house was a lawn fanatic. Lawn treatments, lots of watering, mowing in precise patterns and times. I always felt a bit ashamed that my lawn was barely average. Not bad, mind you, but not all that great.
The new guy managed to turn it into a hayfield in about a month. I think he's mowed it twice (he has a huge John Deere riding mower - I have a push reel mower) and leaves the grass as is. After this weekend's mowing, you can no longer see the lawn for the dried out cut grass. At least the dogs are somewhat quiet - so far. We bought some holly bushes to try and hide our view of his dogs and fence - oh, and did I mention the broken car he parks in his back yard? It's a Triumph, but still... And he keeps his garbage cans outside his garage next to our house.
I hate to say it, but this weekend for the first time since we moved here, our Sunday papers were missing. Not only ours, but at least four other households in the neighborhood. You can imagine who my suspect is - even though that isn't fair to him. So much for Mr. Rockwell's view of life. Now we're back to Hopper and his bleak views of strangers never looking at each other. Sigh...
