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A BEV POTTER MYSTERY
What Are the Neighbors Building?
Whatever it is, it’s a bad idea
As much as I enjoy the sound of rhythmic pounding at 7:00 in the morning, I still prefer building projects be conducted during regular business hours.
To set the scene, I have mowed my lawn probably seven times to the neighbors’ once. Not that “lawn” is the word I would use to describe the property.
Junk yard? Broken Toy Emporium?
I know they own a lawn mower because I’ve heard it. The guy never picks up tree limbs, or cans, or toys, or anything else before mowing down whatever it is and stalling the engine.
Over.
And over.
And over.
Last weekend, I watched their toddler bushwhack his way through the backyard. He was probably pretending he was Stanley in the Congo. All he needed was a pith helmet and a machete.
When he sat down in the grass, he disappeared. Poof. Gone.
I don’t even like kids, but I have concerns.
Besides the whole snake issue, which is probably just my own personal problem, there are ticks. Lots and lots of ticks, because we have lots and lots of deer.
