Longtime readers have heard me complain often about certain crazy next-door neighbors on the west. There was a time my only complaint was the way they so often sneaked onto my property and stole my morel mushrooms.
That was back before their house burned in the middle of a December night. I guess you could say that's when things started going downhill.
Their house was left a burned-out shell. They received insurance money afterward, although it was less than $100,000; still, had they rebuilt on the site of the old house, it would probably have been sufficient.
However, they were waiting on a settlement; the man of the house had been hurt on a construction job, and they were expecting a sizable sum. There were many sad stories told by the lady of the house while they waited on that settlement, but at last it came. Horses and diamond rings were purchased (and certain substances), and a monstrosity of a house began to be erected. It was a do-it-yourself-with-all-your-partying-friends sort of project. It was never quite finished; the lawn was never mowed; the whole place deteriorated and was finally more or less deserted.
I could say so much more, but I won't.
Today, I glanced toward the driveway of the abandoned property and saw...
Wait... is that a cop car?
It is! It's a cop car!
The other car belongs to the banker who was unfortunate enough to have loaned somebody the money to build this mess. The patrolman came over and told me the bank has taken possession of the place, and they'd like us to report it if we see anybody carrying things off. You see, the house has been stripped of a lot of things while it sat "empty", most especially anything that might have copper in it. The house wasn't exactly empty, since the original owner of the house squatted in the basement for months. (Hmmm, I wonder who stripped all the goodies from the house?)
Folks, this unfortunate scenario has nothing to do with the economy. It's all about a bank loaning money to someone who was never a good risk for anything. These people had, at one point, plenty of money to build the house without getting a loan. They just had other things they wanted to spend that money on.
But at least now I can look forward to different neighbors. And trust me, anybody will be an improvement!
Way back last summer a cat family consisting of a mother and two daughters was abandoned when neighbors moved away. I reluctantly started feeding them in my barn, partly because I felt sorry for them, but also because mice and rats had been showing up more often than I like.
Now, I've had trouble in the past with cats climbing on the window screens and causing some damage, so I hoped the cat family would stay away from the house. I have never once petted any of these cats, and if they get too close I give them the boot. Not real hard, mind you, but enough to discourage them away from under my feet. This has served to make them very wise, so they can now estimate exactly how close they can get to me without getting kicked. You'd love it if you could see me vainly swinging a toe at any of the three. I miss, every time. They laugh.
I did not intend at any time for the cats to come near the house. I only feed them in the barn. And yet, when I open the front door, I often see a couple of cats scurrying off the porch from their comfortable perch on our porch chair. They aren't stupid; even though I don't feed them at the house, they know I live in the house, and they hope to persuade me to feed them a little extra.
They have yet to climb on a screen, so I guess they got the memo I sent them about that.
Lest you think I'm a terrible cat mom, I'd like to show you a picture of them when they first moved to our place:
Mom is on the right. All three were scrawny, and that calico was downright sickly.
Here they are this morning in the barn, eating their generic Walmart cat food. Cliff says they are "slick as moles".
