Sunday, October 30, 2011

It doesn't matter

I'm not depressed today, praise God, so I feel pretty confident exploring an ugly subject.  I feel like I'm an explorer, constantly looking under rocks and logs, as I explore my own mind.

I have mentioned them before, the people next door.  As near as I can tell, they have a couple of young (20-ish) men, an old man, two girls, a young woman, an older woman (about my age) and her live-in-boyfriend.  All living in a 4 bedroom.  It must get pretty crowded, they only have 2 full baths.  They have at least 4 cars.

A fifth, in fact, was recently "totaled".  It looks like it ran into a pole, the whole front end is wrapped around an invisible point of impact.  It stayed in the driveway for a month or two, then left.  So, we have gray truck, green truck, gray SUV, and the blue van.  The driveway is large enough to park all the vehicles.

The blue van is driven by one of the young men.  I don't like him, he came to my house one day asking about a letter left on his van, and he was very smirky about Ron.  I politely told him my husband had a lot of health problems, and we did not write the letter.   We objected, I told him, to the dog.

Oh, the dog.  If you look at last fall, up to about May, a lot of blogs about the dog.  Basically, the young woman wanted "something to love me".  She got a very energetic border collie/dalmation mix.  Both dogs are extremely high-energy breeds that require a lot of personal time.

Her concept of dog parenting, stick the dog in the yard - feed it.  Pet it for a couple minutes every few days.  When the dog got out, they refused to fix the fence, the dog did a lot of damage to the fence, and kept us up with the constant barking - the only way the dog ever got attention.

I think the dog felt, "OK, if I have to bark for 12 hours to get someone out here, I'll do it."  Ron had a different approach, he would go next door and bang on the door, in the middle of the night, for extended periods of time.  He wanted them to put the dog in the garage.  He also made a lot of calls to the police.

Eventually, they gave the dog to the humane society.  I don't feel bad for her; the owner didn't even have a  "gerbil" level of commitment to her pet.  A lot better for doggie to go to some homeschooling mom with 7 kids, on a couple of acres out in the country. Or someone who did agility training or something.

Anyway, I try to pick my battles.  Last week, you can look, seemed like 10 million kids in my yard "looking for my ball".  Why?  Only God knows.  At some future point, Ron and I will ask the neighbor, if you have a party, please run some netting to keep the balls out of our yard.  That's the other side of the yard...

I was fairly annoyed yesterday when we got back from Walmart, to find the ugly blue van, in the only street parking spot, in front of our home.  I thought it was very rude.  The paratransit vehicle blocked traffic on both sides as we unloaded.  Today, it's still here - and some of the other vehicles are missing.

Maybe they went back "home" for a visit, and asked Van Boy to park on the street so they can get their spots back.  I could guess all day long, but I find it very aggravating - like a splinter, to see THAT in front of my house.  It's a piece of crap, with the cliche "bumper hanging on by a coat hanger".

I know this, tomorrow morning we have a 4 AM pickup.  Things are going to be rather "tight" if Van Boy doesn't move, and we get a large van.

That's where I sit down and have a talk with myself.  Does this really matter?  Is the van barking all night, tearing up the fence, and defecating in my garden?  Does it have loud parties every night?  Does it tear boards off the fence?  Does it climb on the gate, breaking it?  Does it try to run me over when I go for a run?  Does it "sic" a vicious animal on me during my runs?  Does it throw used condoms in my yard?  Is it a vicious animal?  Does it damage my property?  

No, it's not.  I have endured all the rest and then some.  On the "bad neighbor" spectrum, this is nothing. In fact, I can laugh if I push myself a little.

I know I have a  remarkable tendency to become very paranoid and scary.  If something minor like this happens, it can grow and grow in my head to monumental proportions.  It can overcome every other thought, as I brood on the "injustice" and "persecution".  So, I watch for it.  I am extremely careful about taking my pills, too.

My maternal grandmother is my boogeyman.  One thing about families, if you look back at an event, and ask 3 people about it, you'll get 4 different viewpoints.  I find it remarkable that every family member, who speaks of my maternal grandmother, says the same thing: paranoid, isolated, never forgave an "injustice", hostile, accusatory, demanding, and all the things I see in my own head.

It scares me, and rightly so.  I don't want to end up like her, dying alone.  I don't want to be feared and hated.  I don't want to be the person who cuts off contact with her only child.  When I'm cremated, I don't want people screaming "Keep those ashes out of my house".

So, I look at the ugly blue "splinter", outside my house, and tell myself, "It doesn't matter".

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