*WARNING: Rant Ahead*
While all of the world has been delighting in the readings of the crazy Delta Gamma sorority letter, Mr. Goddard and I have been dealing with a letter of our very own. Not from some cute girl on an F bomb bender, but from our retired, chain smoking, green-thumbed neighbor.
To paint a blurry picture, we live in an older duplex in East Sacramento. A great little place with super cheap rent, but we share a wall with this looney old broad. And she's ALWAYS home! Smoking in her camping chairs in front of the house, alongside her dirty little dog. Decorating the house/lawn with gawdy garden chotskies. Or stomping around in her house - I s-w-e-a-r she rearranges her furniture every day. It's becoming clear that this is her house, her yard and we're just (rudely) living in it.
This entire rant centers around the delightful topic of dog poop. You'll notice at the center of the above photo her clarification of "fece's or shit"! We weren't sure what belonged to the fece, but we better understand her use of shit. However, I think it was pretty shitty that she gathered dog poop from the "communal" garden in "our" backyard and left it in a pile on an empty potting soil bag in the middle of the yard. I think it's funny that she felt she was doing us a favor because I felt she was being passive aggressive and Mr. Goddard felt the need to return it to the front of her garage! ;)
Our punishment for being passive aggressive back? This letter was taped to our door at some point of Friday night. She probably tattled to our landlord as well. I wouldn't be surprised.
Thank you Barbara. We laughed at you ALL weekend.
These are the kinds of things I hope to look back on one day when we're paying our own mortgage instead of someone else's and we're no longer forced to share a yard or wait for toilet/air conditioning/water to be fixed.
In the meantime I'm going to see if Michael Shannon is available to do a reading of our letter.