It took nine months to sell our last house. We had already bought our current house and panic was more than setting in. I had cried countless times and agonized and worried daily. Finally, we were one day from closing on a sale.
My realtor called. “There are a whole bunch of bags full of leaves just sitting outside your garage door. The buyer wants them taken away before they’ll close tomorrow.”
I had no idea what she was talking about so I called my neighbor across the street.
We were leaving in the morning for Canada on vacation and there was no way I could drive all the way to that house and get rid of those leaves that night. I was in a major bind and didn’t know what to do. So I told her that there were bags of leaves by my garage door that I knew nothing about, and I asked her if she could just go over to the house and dump the leaves out or get rid of them for me.
That’s when she exploded. She proceeded to tell me that her husband, King Anal of the Land of Retention, had gone over to our house and bagged up those leaves “for us” and she was NOT going to dump them back into the yard.
Now, I know King Anal, and he did NOT do that as a favor to us. He did it because if one leaf blew across the street into his yard, he’d go bat sh*t crazy. There was NO generosity of spirit involved.
She was ranting and raving and I started to get irritated. I mentioned the fact that it was my house, and I had never given permission to anyone to do anything, and certainly not to bag up two dozen enormous bags of leaves and then just leave them there.
I said, “I appreciate that he raked and everything, but I’m desperate here. I wouldn’t ask you to do this but we’re trying to close on that house, we’re leaving the country in the morning and I have to do something.” I said if she wanted to take the bags to the dump, I would pay her the $1 per bag fee to do so.
She was completely belligerent and said it was not her responsibility to take those leaves anywhere.
I was ticked! I said, “YOU bagged them up! I NEVER asked you nor wanted you to do that. Now, I’m in a bad situation because of it and you won’t make it right?”
She hung up on me.
So, I called another friend in town and she kindly offered to take the leaves to her property and dump them for me. It took her four trips to do it, but she didn’t even blink. That’s not a neighbor. That’s a friend.
This Love Your Neighbor story has been written as part of the Writer’s Workshop for Mama’s Losin’ It.