If You Can’t Beat Them, Whack Them.

Mow them, really. I had designs on whacking, but I ran out of daylight.

The house next to us used to be the home of an elderly lady, and when she moved to assisted living, her children decided to rent the place out. The first batch of tenants were still convinced they were in a frat house even though the entire neighborhood is residential and family oriented. There are no loud party houses around; well that was true until our neighbors became that house. After a Fourth of July celebration that included drunken singing/yelling from the roof of their garage and pissing on our neighbor’s lawn in front of our neighbor and a resulting call to the cops, those tenants quieted down a bit and then left after their lease was up.

It is hard to keep all the windows closed in summer to block out burning charcoal lighter fluid fumes and drunken shouting, and those tenants had parties that lasted till 2 or 3 with one I remember going until light the next day.

The new batch seemed much more respectful, but they too had tendencies to party late and loud. I went over a few times to ask them to tone it down, and they were very polite but little change happened. However, they didn’t hold a candle to the prior bunch, and their parties at least were confined to reasonable weekends and national holidays.

Memorial Day, we saw them gearing up for a party, and began gritting our teeth. It started out early and fairly quiet. The signs were good, but when about half the party was gone or inside, the volume, both music and shouting, rose to a much higher level. I decided it was a perfect time to get in some much needed yard work. I pulled out the mower and weed whacker and got to business attacking the lawn that was more meadow than yard. My little battery powered mower is fairly quiet and probably couldn’t be heard over their din, but suddenly, they all went inside and even closed their kitchen windows that focus the inside noise right at our house. I didn’t even have to break out the weed whacker!

I have no idea how much of our previous conversations or my yard work of protest had to do with this decision, but if it stays this way tonight (I am writing this entry Memorial Day evening), I will be thankful. I may have to do yard work whenever they start partying. And my children might even make it through the night without being woken by the effects of alcohol on people who just don’t recognize their surroundings.

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