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Ding Dong Sing Along

Lots of vents are expressions of frustration and anger that need a safe release. This is a happy one. Feel free to jump up and do a happy dance while singing DING DONG The Witch is Dead.

My hubby sent me an email from work to my mobile, saying check a different account on computer, needs larger screen detail. So I waited for the kids to go to school or nap, checked and found a wonderful picture of a neighbor's house ( over our back field fence, they face a main street a half mile away) with a high realtor FOR SALE sign in front. YipYap the wicked witch and her forces of evil are leaving of their own volition.
She started a one sided war with us and specifically targeted me, when they moved in in 2009.
The original source of the problem is that we are very different people with different values and backgrounds. But there has never been any issue which should have led to getting local authorities from police and animal control and Humane Societies and even child protection people involved, as well as various town and county and state agencies involved.
Like an abscess in my life. Going Gangrene.

She is a middle class, upper middle class mid-thirties educated wife and mother and some kind of editor part time, who moved here from a very wealthy Connecticut suburb. A helicopter mom. Very religious. Considers herself very principled, a supporter of all the right causes.

She is a beloved in enforcing standards for the common good. As she will tell you. Repeatedly.
But her assumption is that her religion is the right and true one and every one else must follow its guiding principles. And her politics, standards, etc are always the ones everyone else must agree to. She uses authorities and regulations and speaking out and sometimes lawyers to make sure her side wins the day.

I am happily a rural wife and mother and professional woman who grew up in this rural farm and mountain area but have lived and been educated elsewhere, not unknowing of where she comes from. We actually agree on many things, but it is a matter of degree. In an area of towns of 300 to 5000 person towns, not getting along with neighbors often just means agreeing to disagree and ever after being careful to be tactful and civil when you or your families meet. Not her. And she is moving

Yesterday was the month from winter solstice day when we had bright sunshine at 6:45 am and still light at 5:10 pm. A fifty minute improvement. I told my daughter we would go out after school and all do happy dances.

Now I have dessert in cooking, meat marinating and ready to cook tonight. Two neighbors and my parents and my sister's family have said yes by phone or text. Dinner and happy dancing party tonight. Ding Dong. I feel like a watermelon size sac of pus has been sucked out.
I have been disliking the way I behave and feel since she declared war. War is over. Peace will come.

Re: Ding Dong Sing Along

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    Yay for you!  I hope she moves quickly.  I wish I had a something to share to continue this thread.  I'm pretty sure that after we move out next weekend the neighbors will be throwing a party of sorts.  We're just the people who are annoying because we keep odd hours (I'm generally nocturnal, and FI worked as a bartender for most of the time we've been here) so there's a lot of coming and going until we both go to bed, which can sometimes be 6am.  Most of this is due to the dog begging to be taken outside once an hour until he's in bed.  And as annoying as the neighbors find the sound of the door (sure, it squeaks, but as we rent, we can't do anything about it as our landlord didn't see the need to fix it) but way better than barking dog at 4 AM, right?
    image
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    I hope her house sells in 3 days and you never have to see her again.
    Daisypath Anniversary tickers
    eyeroll
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    Fingers crossed it sells quick.  I had my own Ding Dong moment today when we celebrated my AP's last day at my school today as she is moving to a new Principal job at a different school.  It was glorious 

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    Fingers crossed it sells quick.  I had my own Ding Dong moment today when we celebrated my AP's last day at my school today as she is moving to a new Principal job at a different school.  It was glorious 

    When a Boston area friend teacher with a miserable unsupportive bureaucrat of an assistant principal complained and complained on a visit up here to my parents with me, my Mom pulled down an old book from the shelf, Bel Kaufman's Up the Down Staircase. Later in the school year she wrote my Mom the funniest letter (I had joined the army, gone.) She scrounged around and got enough old paperback copies to give suffering fellow teachers each a copy.

    The book is a collection of a first year inner city teacher's little papers. School memos, notes from other teachers, high school students hilarious excuses for not doing homework and writing about tough home lives. A chief character who emerges is a terrible assistant principal who writes memos full of grammatical mistakes and idiocy in the incompetent policies he sets - busily covering his ass and helpful to no one, and thinking he is excellent at his job. And such a fool that he has the sign painters abbreviate Administrative Assistant as ADM. ASS. HIS NAME on his office door. Earning him the name Admiral Ass amongst teachers. The book is quite funny, was a best seller.

    When my friend's Supervising Assistant Principal (his real title) announced he had finally been promoted to a position worthy of his level of incompetence, Principal elsewhere, the teachers decided to forgo their usual Annual holiday party and had a private Admiral Ass Party in a reserved back room of a local pub. Admiral Ass the miserable SAP t shirts printed for all with printed napkins and matchbooks and beer mugs. A definite hit. Friend sent my Mom a letter with photos to send me, party central . The happiest teachers you ever saw.

    It is so miserable when what should be mutually supportive every day relationships become something you dread. Hope the next AP you get is a change for the better. Celebrate!


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    Inkdancer said:

    I hope her house sells in 3 days and you never have to see her again.

    ........
    We had a hilarious dinner party tonight, thinking of ways to be helpful to our neighbor. Like passing out flyers recruiting people to help us help her pack. Suggesting each volunteer knock on her door to offer their help her pack - and we would get half the townspeople to do it, since I was not her only target, just the only one she focused on repeatedly.
    Or starting a bank fund to pay her moving expenses with posters at the local banks and businesses and collection cans in every business for 6 towns around.

    No more town meetings where she decries our working and employing local kids (and rural adults who work multiple part time jobs to survive.) And actually pick apples or pick up branches from storms or pick blueberries for 3 hours ON SUNDAYS the SABBATH . As though every business in this tourist area is not open year round on Sundays.

    No more visits from the humane societies to investigate the fact that we do not have any dog house but often leave our dogs outside while we are out, when state law requires shelter be provided. Which investigators laugh off when they find the house has 2 custom built lever action dog doors dogs operate to get into 20 by 8 foot furnished porches with heat . As does our small barn and the woodworking shop.
    And the next year those investigating cruelty to animals complaints tell her off when she complains that our dogs do forced labor. She considers all dogs beloved pets. She does not understand that Working Breeds at the dog shows she attends, like our sled dog and herding breeds, are not being abused when they pull a small sled or kid size wagon through our snowy maple tree sugaring trees, and their harnesses are not chains.
    My son thinks we should frame a huge picture of our gorgeous dogs as a going away gift.
    She complained we have too many for one house, not mentioning that three families as well as a couple renting an over garage apartment live on our Farm with a 7 acre home farm and 19 more acres of trees and bushes , 26 acres.

    Or maybe a huge framed picture of wild bears, since she thinks our blueberries and apple orchard and nut trees are an attractive nuisance , bringing bears and moose and huge animals like that, and wildcats, to our property next to hers. Of course she did not mention we are next to several hundred miles of national forest, as townspeople point out, mostly woods and fields, and every open area has them. And wild lynx are not rabies ridden DANGEROUS FERAL CATS.
    And state laws against child labor do not mean we cannot hire Teenagers for hardly any money in dangerous conditions like MIGRANT WORKERS everyone hears about. Starting pay is $8 to 12 for teens, always 4 hours or less in a day, twice a week . Or does she mean the kids we pay NOTHING she photographed working in our apple orchard in fall? The elementary school classes and a few day care centers we host every year, who take home Free baskets of apples they picked, and small jugs of cider, and maple syrup.
    Maybe a hundred local school kids and day care preschoolers would like to join us and sing and dance to fiddle and pennywhistle tunes on the sidewalk in front of their fancy home. A home Leaving party.
    How awful to celebrate people leaving. I grew up amongst the townspeople . We go by canoe or row small johnboats 6 to 20 miles on interconnecting brooks and rivers in local communities, visiting my relatives, and friends I grew up with, with our family now, and unfriendly neighbors should be an oxymoron.

    A cathartic rant! Happier now.
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