Now I know why people create and choose to live in gated communities.
Pest exterminating solicitations, Carpet cleaning specials, Meat delivery services, Jehovah's witnesses, and the kid you've never seen before who supposedly lives "next door" who comes to peddle candy, magazines, or what have you for a fund raiser supposedly for school.
I'm fed up. I'm building a 12-foot wall around our home. With an electric fence. And a moat. With sharks with electric laser beams attached to their heads.
Nah, I'll probably just put a sign on our door telling folks I don't know to back off. Let's see if they comply.
I dropped BLP Stephanie off at the airport this morning; she's going to visit her family. When we returned home, I saw the people dressed in their Sunday best with the umbrellas suspended over their heads mozying on by our home. It wasn't raining. It was sunny. I went around the block three times hoping they'd proceed past our home onward to pester some other unsuspecting person(s) but unfortunately on the third lap they decided to stand in our driveway in the shade of one of our bushes and have a little chat underneath their umbrella. They were right in my parking spot.
E was cranky and I wanted to go home. I didn't want to do laps any more. I pulled in. I took my time exiting the vehicle, perhaps two to three minutes, cleaning up trash and miscellaneous papers scattered around the vehicle. They stayed there and waited for me. I sighed and opened the door.
"Oh, what sweet children!" one of the ladies exclaimed.
E started crying. (He's going through a fear of unfamiliar faces stage.)
"Oh, I'm sorry."
You should be.
They proceed to say hello to L and she, in her normal demeanor, welcomes the attention. They say that they come with a message of important relevance. They hand me their publication The Watchtower on which the cover reads "Seven Steps to Better Parenting."
"Thanks."
I think Steven and I rather move even further out into the boonies on a bigger piece of land with less residences so close to us before we move into a gated community. Some day. Hopefully that some day the market will be better. And I hope we can get a donkey. And an otter. And seal. And one of those really big trampolines.
7 comments:
You sound frazzled, Sarah.
Two words to the Watchtower people:
I'm Catholic.
Usually turns them right off.
You could try "I'm a rabbi."
Or ____ off!
:-)
Hang in there.
thats the one thing I'll say about when I lived in Michigan... we had no door to door religion sales. Now that I am back in Idaho we have the two regulars...
When they hand me The Watchtower I just say "Hey thanks...I need something to soak up the blood during the goat slayings..."
ok, no I don't...but I WANT to
ha, if only it were that easy. We DO live in the boonies, and have 2.5 acres (ok not a ton, but a lot for So. Cal) and within a month we had our first visit. I happened to be out walking 2 of the dogs, leaving our shepherd mix at home. I won't get into details, but lets just say, that was the one and only visit.
Gotta post.
(I've missed ya.)
I used to visit with the jahovies from time to time when I lived in Texas. I was lonely, what can I say?
They'd come over, two elderly chicks, we'd drink a soda and gab, for a while. These old gals were not the cowardly type, even after I told them I was Catholic they still wanted to try and convert me. Needless to say they were none too successful, but I sort of liked bickering back and forth with them, hey it beat walking my kid up and down the road repeatedly. Gal's gotta rest sometime.
Anyway the one really odd question they posed to me once was, "If your father was killed by a knife would you wear a knife around your neck?" And I said, "Well, no, what are ya gettin at hon?" And she pointed out that we wear a cross around our necks and that's the very thing Jesus was killed on, and how barbaric we are, etc... I was like, hmmmm, I didn't think you guys believed that Jesus was so directly connected to the father...and well, it's a symbol girls, and I aint taking it off for no body....so there ya go.
I love you Sarah beara!
I'm back.
So now it's your turn.
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