Shame on me

It was a matter of time before my charitable mood ran out and I found something to mock. Our neighbors at the back entrance to our development kindly provided fodder for said mockery. These people have turned into the freaky eyesore that we once were with John's artificial reef in the yard (aka, a '44 Mercedes with suicide doors that had sentimental value, but really, it was a giant rust heap--it did serve a purpose, as a litter of cats was born in it, but that's another story).

I digress. These people, our neighbors, periodically do some kind of yardwork and clean up that usually results in weird items left on the curb. For example, the front screen door has fallen off the hinges. Granted, most people around here enter through the garage, so maybe they were unaware that the door was hanging askew. One wonders. Anyway, one day we drive by, and they have removed the old shutters from the front of the house, and replaced them with new, freshly painted shutters. Nice.

We look on the trash pile, and there are the offending shutters.

Where was the broken screen door? Still hanging from the doorframe by a screw, all bent and fallen over.

So, it comes as no surprise to me that yesterday, while driving through the neighborhood looking at the pretty lights, we should encounter their Christmas contribution to street's decor: A giant, rusted waterheater. I was foolish enough to think it could have been something festive. I mean, I saw a tall thing in the front yard, it was twilight--who knew? Some Santa Robot, or something? How silly of me.

and now I'll hide from Linda, who will gently remind me again that there's no forgiveness where there's no remorse