Spring is here, sort of, I think. Normally I would start opening windows this time of year and pretend that the air outside is better than the air inside, but this year I can’t, because:
A. The windows are stuck closed.
B. I have sprained both wrists opening jars of martini olives and therefore can type yet not operate window mechanisms.
C. The neighbor has been having a bonfire since January.
You guessed (B), didn’t you?
In January, the chain saw started. One tiny treelet at a time. All day long. And what do we do with our chainsawed treelet pieces? Why, burn them, of course! In a great smoke-belching fire. All day! Since January.
So apparently the neighbor has decided to do something with the house that was all boarded up since I moved in here. I had no idea there were that many treelets on that property, enough to require the constant use of a chainsaw and keep a fire burning for three months straight.
I mean, I guess they are using the chainsaw to cut down tree-things and then burning them. But I just had a thought about the movie Fargo. Could the boarded-up house have been filled with discarded doll heads or random bodies stashed there?
Good thing there’s a whole 20 feet of sort-of woods in between my driveway and the House of Burning Nutjob. I feel safe now.