While I was cooking the Mussel-Saffron Chowder this afternoon, Dixie started barking her ass off. I went to the back window to see what was happening in my little cul-de-sac, since I'd already been out there once this morning to ask someone visiting next door to kindly remove their vehicle from my yard, thankyouverymuch.
This was the view from my front door. That lot to the right with the new mulch on it (which, BTW, I got for free - the mulch that is- not the lot - since some tree guys were chopping trees down the street and chipping and shredding them on site and I just went down and asked if they'd dump the mulch on my yard, which they did happily, since it meant they didn't have to take it someplace else far away) -- where was I? Oh yeah, that lot to the right with the new mulch on it is where Youngest Hawthorne always parks and anyone else - like Ed or other visitors- park and those three trucks are BLOCKING access to my property.
As Mr. Hawthorne says, "We have a sitchayshun, here."
Delinquent punks.
As Mr. Hawthorne says, "We have a sitchayshun, here."
Mr. Hawthorne went to the window and yelled out for them to move their vehicles else he'd have the sheriff come and move the trucks for them. Then he felt bad for what he said and went out to apologize to them, explaining he was sorry,
he had acted in haste.
WussieMan.
he had acted in haste.
WussieMan.
Delinquent punks.
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