Last night I was wondering how it will feel to finally be walking on my two feet again without the assistance of my boot. Will I be able to put weight on my foot? Will my ankle swell up? Will it hurt? Will I need to use my crutches again? Right now I am all 'wait and see,' but am a tad nervous. Upon my doctor's advice, I've started to do some easy stretches. Flexing and pointing my foot and attempting to rotate my ankle has not been easy. The muscles are incredibly stiff. Luckily, I have my new found friends in the Facebook 'Broken Ankle' group to help me through. Apparently, there is a Facebook group for everything including bone fractures. On a somewhat related note . . . . I'm contemplating starting my own Facebook group for people who really dislike their neighbors and would prefer to rant in a passive aggressive manner to their spouse and blog readers versus actually confronting the situation head on and doing something about it. Might need to work on the group name, but you get the gist of it, no? You see, I have a WTN situation otherwise known as the curious case of the white trash neighbors. They are a younger couple -- maybe late 20's -- who moved into our townhome complex about 4 months ago. At first, everything seemed great. They were nice enough -- waved hello when coming and going, smiled on occasion, did not wield pitchforks or axes, etc. They have a dog so there were a few moments when we would make casual chit chat while passing each other as we took our dogs out for a walk. No issues. Everything was fine.
Then winter hit and my annoyance level grew. First it was the dog situation. For some reason, the WTNs (aka white trash neighbors) like to stake their dog out in the front yard for stretches of time rather than take her for a walk or stand out there with her while she does her business. Now, I will admit that I've used a stake and lead with Ozy a few times in the summer months when it was really nice out and he was just dying to hang in the sunshine. But in the sub-zero dead of winter with snow piled a mile high? No way. I'd drive by and see this poor dog sitting outside shivering. Sad. It kinda reminds me of the old junkyard dog who's plight in life is to stand guard over trash. To compound this troubling scene, the WTNs don't clean up after said dog. Instead, poop piles dot the landscape of their front yard, which just happens to be connected to my front yard. It is disgusting. Seriously, poop clumps are everywhere. And, in case you wanted to get the full visual of junkyard, the WTN dude drives this old, rusted out white pick-up which is always sitting in their driveway. Now, far be it from me to criticize someone's choice in automobiles. Of course, not everyone can drive a nice car. I get it. BUT, this thing is about 2 seconds away from the junk heap. He fires it up in the morning and the rust bucket practically backfires. Can you say car up on blocks? Can you say eye sore? Yep it is.
So, you get the drift. Am I being too harsh and critical? Should I just live and let live? They make their choices and I make mine, right? Just as I was beginning to feel a little mean, the other night Mr. Oz and I were hanging out just watching a movie in the comfort of our living room when we hear this booming bass pumping. Heavy metal music blaring and literally vibrating the walls. The WTNs must have been having a party. I can appreciate wanting to let loose on the weekend, but the decibles were outta this world annoying. Ugh.
So, I ask you, dear blog readers, what is to be done? Do we suffer in silence and continue to pour out anger on the interwebs? Should we reach out to the townhome association and file a complaint regarding the dog turd situation and, perhaps, the noise if it continues to be a pattern? Do we just look for an opportunity to talk directly to the neighbors (and by "we" I mean Mr. Oz)? Or, better yet, maybe we should just pull up stakes and move?
Help, I need advice.
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