About that fence

Now that the snow in my yard has melted, I’ve been reminded that the old fence is still scattered around in my yard. That which the neighbor’s landlord just left behind after installing the new fence in December.

Well, the next door neighbors have moved to Maine. The house next door sits empty and I think it would be the ideal opportunity to pitch the old fence remains over the new fence and stack it neatly against their deck. Or something.

This is not my fence. I derive benefits from it so I am willing to pay for half the repairs or replacement. But.It.Isn’t.My.Fence. And I’m not in the mood to hire someone to come haul it away. Moreover, I’m still kind of peeved that they just walked away from doing the fence installation, leaving all the old fence and debris scattered around my yard. My idea of finishing a job is cleaning up afterwards. Of course, it did snow the day after and never stopped, but still.

I’ve gotta get rid of it so I can start raking the yard and doing the lime and fertilizer thing. Now if I can just corral the lad long enough to help. Those fence sections aren’t light weight and I’ll need the extra set of hands to heave the sections up and over. He’s running in six different directions all day long, so that’ll be a trick.

Why do I feel faintly guilty for doing this? I don’t know. Perhaps because I have the very clear sense that the next door landlord just expects me to deal with it. Nope, not going to cave in. It’s not my rental property and I’m not cleaning up after him.

At least not until his grass grows and someone has to mow it—because he won’t.

Absentee landlords are a pain in the neck. Well, this one is, anyway.