Sunday, November 05, 2006

Leave It or Take It

So we get back yesterday from the movies. . . .

("Flushed Away." From the Wallace & Gromit folks. Went with E., my 24-year-old son who has a bachelor's in animation arts, and A., my 9-year-old daughter. We all loved it. Witty and fun.)

. . . and after a futile attempt at a nap I notice my neighbor and his son (actually the landlord of the two closely adjoining houses) dumping leaves by the curb. . .

. . . lots of leaves. . . in front of our house. Not theirs.

The landlord's kid asked me whether the leaves go in the street or not. No, I said, scowling, on the edge of a shouting match.

This reminds me of JR's Thumbprints and his dilemma last summer with his neighbor's boat and boat trailer. (Jim, hope you're feeling bettter. Cystoscopies are not fun; I do know that first-hand -- or first-gland.)

I was pissed. But didn't have the energy for it.

Then B. came home. After all, it was her house before I knew her. Plus she's got the Irish temper. She let them know we would prefer that leaves cover the flower beds over the long, hard winter.

Some nerve. (Some lack of nerve, Pawlie -- maybe it was simple prudence. I like Prudence. She's cute. Reminds me: in my growing-up sort-of tough neighborhood one was either classified as a fighter or a lover. Gulp.)

I will say this, though. A couple years ago a huge icicle fell off our house, with a thundering sound, and part of it dented the siding on the same neighbor-landlord's house next to ours (ours, which is now daringly purple with green trim; take that!), and a chunk sailed through the window and blinds of his tenants next door. The perfect weapon, an icicle. Don't look at me; I didn't do it.

By way of closing and apropos of nothing, I was at the supermarket this evening and saw a sign advertising the sale of amarllyis bulbs. I happen to be either blessed or cursed with a steel-tight memory for certain minutiae. Such as a college English professor claiming that the dirtiest line in English literature is from "Lycidas" from John Milton:

"To sport with Amaryllis in the shade,
Or with the tangles of Neaera's hair?"

Amaryllis and Neaera were conventional names for pretty nymphs, my Norton Antholgy tells me.

Hmmm. He takes that over Molly Bloom's soliloquy? Or Andrew Marvell or John Donne? Or Edmund Spenser? Or some of Shakespeare's lines in "Romeo & Juliet? What about P Diddy or Madonna or Prince? (Oh. Right. English literature.) D.H. Lawrence?

You people should be working, paying bills, or wonking (is there such a verb?).


Anonymous said...

After reading that, my circuits are now overloaded. lol
(anyway, love the purple house!!!!!!!!)

mist1 said...

I'll have to see Flushed Away. For old times sake, this weekend I watched The Wrong Trousers.

Glamourpuss said...

The dirtiest line in English Literature? Shakespeare's 'Hamlet':

Hamlet. Lady, shall I lie in your lap?
Ophelia. No, my lord.
Hamlet. I mean, my head upon your lap?
Ophelia. Ay, my lord.
Hamlet. Do you think I meant country matters?

And to a lady!


Sheila said...

Flushed away looks funny. I'm also looking forward to seeing Happy Feet. That looks cute too. I hate it when crappy neighbors try to make their house look better by blowing it all into your yard (so to speak). I used to have a neighbor like that but luckily he moved away and now we have nice neighbors. Ahh the change is a much welcome one!

azgoddess said...

i was wondering if someone was gonna suggest the leaves as mulch somewhere....

and as far as sexy literature...keep it ~ i just planted daffodil bulds - could they be considered?

Anonymous said...

Ahhhhh... the neighborhood territorial skirmishes. I swear, if my neighbor discovers oil on his property, I will invade.

The little mexican fellers across the creek keep swimming across and camping in my back yard looking for jobs.

I think my neighbor to the west is secretely supplying nuclear technology to my neighbor to the west. I might have to nuke him.

I am thinking about oursourcing my blog to the neighbor 3 houses over to cut domestic costs and lower my advertising rates.

Life in the real neighborhood, not unlike life in the real world.

Later y'alll

jbwritergirl said...

I just had a few bulbs removed myself, from where I cannot say, I just hope they don't grow back.

Anonymous said...

Thanks for leaving a comment at my blog. I like the purple house thing, too.

austere said...

what about pretty Tess? No? Add that little bit on the tower? Admit to being QUITE scandalised when i first read it.

Anonymous said...

Blizzard warnings were issued as a service to parts of Illinois, Iowa, Michigan, Minnesota and Wisconsin as snow socked the states in tandem with off the wind fart hear of gusts topping 45 miles (72 kilometers) per hour.
The blizzard -- 10 days anterior to the hit of winter -- took its greatest chiming in Minnesota, where as much as two feet (61 centimeters) of snow had fallen in some locations, according to the National Sickly Service (NWS).
The constitution's largest burg Minneapolis was directed a blanket of off-white 17 inches (43 cm) deep, the worst snowfall to charge the city in more than 19 years and the fifth-biggest on record.
As an with of the thunder-shower's severity, Minneapolis-St. Paul Ecumenical Airport -- a motion hub with adroitness in contending with foul weather -- was shush down exchange for the first time in years.