the weird neighbor

There’s probably one near you. Someone who collects cats or who has strange noises coming from his house at night. The one who causes you to elbow your better half and grin at each other.

Last evening I had the alarming thought that I might be that guy. I was busy in the garden. Looked up and noticed my neighbors across the way talking. Good guys. Trays of cookies at Christmas, graduation parties, friendly chat, heck they’ll help out in a second if you need them.

But what must it look like over here in my garden?

Sprinklers mounted six feet high on green metal stakes. Rows of wire and more stakes holding up lifeless picker-bushes.

Plastic tunnels. Three foot wooden bins. Windows lying on the ground. Just lying there. Small enclosures covered with bubble wrap. More than a dozen big wire cages, some half full of leaves. The other day Wayne came over and smiled politely at the chicks in my…outhouse.

And here I am, shuffling leaves from one spot to another.

Oh my God. I AM that guy.

Well. Try to remember what it looks like when you can’t see any metal or wood and everything’s covered in green. And take Wayne a dozen eggs.

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