Is SHE insane, or are the VOICES IN HER HEAD insane?

About a month ago, I got creative with a chain saw, and I cut down the giant, overgrown shrubs in front of our house to about 1/3 of their original size. They were getting out of control. I piled most of the old branches in front of the garage, and I put the rest on the side of my garage.

Two weeks ago, my super-nice next-door neighbor Ken helped me lug the big main pile out to a yard waste site on a SCRUB day. We loaded the back of his pickup and were back from making the drop-off in less than an hour. All I had left at the house was now the smaller pile of branches on the side of the garage. I planned on taking them to the curb in lawn bags little by little. They were out of the way in an area that we don’t ever walk through.

Then on Thursday night, I ran home from work to let the dogs out before I had to return to work for our Mansion Maniacs fantasy football draft. Got the dogs out, fed them, and got back just in time for the historic picks (more on the team I drafted later …).

After I had finished the draft, I was driving home, going over my lethal fantasy squad in my head, when Erin called. She sounded pretty distressed. She asked, “Were our branches all over the yard when you came home to let the dogs out?”

I hadn’t paid all that much attention to my surroundings when I was out with the dogs, but I was fairly certain I didn’t have to dodge any branches. I pictured in my head some freak wind storm that had blown a couple of branches from the side of the garage out into the yard. No big deal.

But Erin still sounded distressed, and she said they were “all over the place.”

I pulled into the driveway, and Erin was at nice next door neighbors to the south Ken and Darcy’s house. They were all standing outside, looking perplexed. I walked over, and Erin handed me this note she found taped to our front door from … we’ll call her Scheggy Pultz … our next door neighbor to the north:


If you can’t read it, it says:

You’re “dead shrubbs are killing my tomatoes & raspberries
P –

… and below the sign-off is a drawing of a crying tomato with a puddle of tears beneath it.

Aside from being amazed that she was able to correctly spell “raspberries” — yet she misspelled “shrubs,” used the incorrect “your” and inserted a phantom quotation mark — the immediate thought that flashed through my head can be summed up with three letters: W. T. and F.

Some additional questions:

1. Why was this addressed only to me and not to my wife?

2. Seriously, a crying tomato?

3. Why can’t this woman spell?

4. Why is this woman so insane?

5. Why did this woman write this note on the back of something upon which she had previously printed something from this site? Only the URL was on the half page in the footer … I can only hope what she had printed above the tear line was as riveting as the site’s current pull quote from Nealz Nuze:

The Democrats certainly aren’t going to let the death of their liberal lion pass without figuring out some way to take advantage. We heard the first rumblings yesterday – today it will be come a roar. The Democrat takeover of all health care must be accomplished if for no other reason than to honor Ted Kennedy.

6. Why in the HELL did the first complaint (completely unwarranted, I might add) to me about the branches ON MY PROPERTY come in the form of this barely literate effing letter, all the branches thrown around my back yard and a garbage can of mine tipped over with its contents spilled out?

Seriously, the only mention of the branches that she made before was prior to my removal of the large main pile when she told us to “be careful because bees could make nests in it.”

While this pile was nowhere near as large as the pile I had hauled away, it was a decent size. It had to take this nut job 10 – 15 minutes to drag them all out and throw them all over the place. Keep in mind, though, that the branches did not extend above the chain link fence that separates our property from Scheggy Pultz’s. Nor did they reach through any of the links into her yard. In fact, the only thing that broke the plane of the Chain Link Curtain was her stupid raspberry bush, the majority of which is actually growing on my side of the fence.

Erin and I — along with Darcy, who would act as a mediator since she had lived two doors down from Scheggy for many years — decided to go over to Scheggy’s to find out just what was going on. We discussed before we went over there that we’d not lose our cool. There is no telling what a crazy will do in what she perceives as an attack. This is especially important if we’re approaching her at her house.

We knocked on the door twice. After a long pause, Scheggy opened the door with a broad, fake smile. She stepped out onto her porch with us, and we began discussing the situation.

To paraphrase, I pointed out to her that she had never mentioned a concern that my branches were harming her “tah-may-tihz” and raspberries, and I told her it’s not an acceptable way to address the situation by coming over into our back yard and throwing our yard waste across our back yard.

She basically said that she didn’t know when we’d be home (she thought we may be in Chicago … oh yes, she said this), so she had to take matters into her own hands. She said that since both Erin and I went to college, she knows we’re not stupid, and that we know enough to know that the branches were “poisoning her tah-may-tihz.”

I informed her that I was not aware that our branches were doing any harm, but had she said something about it, I would have gotten rid of the branches the next day. We reasserted, without using these exact words, that coming onto our property and being a whacko was not acceptable.

She then attempted to make matters right by saying, “Well if it’s that bigga deal, I’ll go over and remove the shrubs. I’ll have them out of your yard tomorrow.”

Erin told her that the mess wasn’t even the point. The point was she can’t just walk onto our property when something is upsetting her (let alone when it’s something she hasn’t even informed us about) and do whatever she pleases.

At this moment, Scheggy got extremely angry and went into a loud tirade that included no less than twenty fucks. I don’t completely remember everything she said because I was getting very angry, and I was just concentrating on keeping my cool. I know, though, that she reasserted that she’d do what she had to to protect her plants.

Darcy attempted to interrupt to calm her down. She asked Scheggy to just please listen to what I was trying to say. Erin and I remained calm while the crazy was comin’ out.

Scheggy continued her fuck tirade, not letting anyone get in another word. She ended by looking at me and saying that up until now, I had been a good neighbor. She said something along the lines of, “Sorry it had to come to this.” She told Darcy that she had always been nice, and she never had a problem with her. Then she turned to Erin, pointed at her, and said, “But you have been a fucking bitch for the last year! This conversation is over. I’m done.” She then walked back inside and shut the door behind her.

Erin had suspected before that Scheggy didn’t like her for some reason. She had been very cold to Erin. I thought Erin had been looking too much into it, and I didn’t think it was true. Why wouldn’t she like her? She’d never had a bad interaction with her before. When Erin has extras after baking, she’ll bring them over to Scheggy. She had written her numerous thank-you notes. Hell, we even invited the woman to our wedding. Shame she didn’t go.

Then I remembered something Scheggy had mentioned to me before. She confided in me over the Chain Link Curtain that she didn’t like our older Scottie, Colonel. She got a bad vibe from him and thought he was a mean dog. On the other hand, she just loves Winston. She thinks Winston and her dog (Diamond, a rottweiler who she claims can talk to her. Scheggy also has a large inflatable swimming pool in the circus that is her back yard that she got for Diamond) are best friends, and that they love to talk to each other. Scheggy then informed me that she believed that Colonel was Erin’s dog, and that Erin controlled him. She thought Winston was my dog, and that I controlled him.

It is becoming very apparent that the Chain Link Curtain needs to become a Giant Wooden Privacy Curtain. Also, this lady crazy.