And while, as a borderline/recovered hoarder (Ahem! Collector!) myself, I can sympathize with the tendency to amass too much of a good thing. Vera scarves, for example, or California pottery parrots, let's say. Vintage children's books, or charming old chenille rugs or jadite coffee mugs.
But dirt? Seriously? DIRT?
I kid you not.
Over the weekend, a squirrelly neighbor has talked a local excavator into using her place as a dumping ground for fill dirt from a construction project up the road. I'm not even talking top soil here, I'm talking plain old clay dirt, big rocks, and boulders. The dump trucks rumbled up and down the lane every 10 minutes or so for a couple of days. Her once-lovely field now looks like the foothills of a small mountain range.
Last night, one of our other neighbors phoned my husband and said, "L----, I'm looking out my window and all I see is dirt." To say we're all a bit horrified is an understatement.
Here's what I'm talking about:
Next week we're expecting hot temperatures and wind. I'm not looking forward to coping with the resultant dust. Guess I won't be hanging any clothes out on the line to dry.
One of my sons jokingly asked if anyone has seen the neighbor's husband lately?
Okay, that's it for today. This wasn't the post I intended to write, but then I'm still trying to process this bizarre eccentricity and it's about all I have on my mind.
Got any good "nutty neighbor" stories? We could all use a good laugh, so please share! That reminds me, one of these days I will tell you about one my mom had!