It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood?

It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood, a beautiful day for a neighbor. Would you be mine? Would you be mine?... I might have to advise against that. My neighborhood has been an interesting place to be the past couple of weeks, and I may or may not contribute to that flavor a little bit.  I’m sure it’s quite entertaining to see me prancing around my yard in the morning, sweat pants, galoshes, hair askew, muttering under my breath at my bulldog… well ok sometimes yelling, coaxing, prodding, begging, dragging my bulldog. I promise I am a good mom, but he can be stubborn, and so can I. I really added to the neighborhood flavor this morning when I walked outside for a good 10 minutes with a gaping hole in the ass of my sweatpants! I was blissfully unaware of this fact until I was bounding back up onto the porch and noticed a bit of a draft. Toby was not ready to come back inside yet, so I stood there, one hand on the leash, one hand holding my pants together, mentally playing back how long I had been outside, and if I had run into another living creature. I guess I cannot really be surprised that strange men are wandering into my yard, when I wander around my yard with my ass on display.  How I had failed to notice it, I have no idea, but I hope the neighbors appreciated it. It’s taken me 3 years, but I finally topped the epic wardrobe malfunction of walking around with my skirt tucked into my skivvies.   At least I wasn’t walking down 3^rd street this time…

Add to that, the constant road constructions and mystery closures that start on the streets surrounding my house at 7AM and it’s a little bit of a circus in the morning. Toby waddling off barking at construction crew members, (all of whom seem to ask me why I’m up so early… good question, why are you tearing apart the road in front of my house so early?) Me, still in my sweat pants, the extra traffic, the extra noises, the extra out-houses… Seriously, why is the main construction out house sitting practically in my front yard? I can handle parking 3 blocks away, I can handle getting woken up to the sound of jack hammers… but do I really need a porta-potty mere feet from my lawn? And I am here to tell you, that construction crew members are not the only people who use it. On the weekend, this porta potty becomes fair game… I have seen all sorts of characters marching in and out of it… and really it doesn’t get much more awkward, than having a homeless man stop, talk to your bulldog, head into the porta potty, (which are not sound proof) and some back out, talk to the dog some more, and walk off. And yet it is a situation I have found myself in more than once over the past week.  Everybody poops. I get it. But does everybody have to poop in the out-house right outside my front door?

In spite of the honey bucket situation, I’ve been spending more and more time outside lately. (most times in completely appropriate clothing, and not with my ass hanging out the back of my pants)  I’m planting in the garden, lunching on the patio, spending weekend afternoons laying in the grass, hanging with the pup. And it has been pretty wonderful. Minus the occasional sexual harassment. Backstory, I have a quince tree in my front yard, and my landlord has been so kind as to offer it up as a community tree, meaning every fall my yard is flooded with people harvesting the quince. I’ve walked outside to find men standing in the tree, have witnessed entire families pulling fruit off the ground… and because of the quince, I feel like my house is kind of a hot spot. So the first time José stopped and talked to me it didn’t seem that out of place. I think I was working in my garden, and he said something like “oh how come you aren’t working for me?”  I only remember this, because a few weeks ago when he stopped by again, he reminded me of our conversation from last spring. There is a huge language barrier, and a huge age difference, and I understand that there is also some cultural differences, meaning he probably isn’t viewing our conversations as forward or inappropriate, but yesterday when he wandered into my yard, stood between me and my front door, and started asking me if I lived alone, why I wasn’t working, if I made a lot of money, if I had a girlfriend (which I’m assuming he meant boyfriend? But maybe he didn’t) asked if I had children, where my family was, why I was alone, if I liked restaurants, what I liked to order at restaurants etc etc. It was making me super uncomfortable! And I don’t know why I didn’t lie to him, I don’t know why I didn’t say “yes my Husband will be home at any moment” but his questions were rattling me, and it seemed like short, curt, one word answers were best… maybe he would get the hint? Finally when he started asking me if I liked to order tequila when I went out to restaurants, and telling me how very beautiful I was, I decided I had had enough. I wrangled the dog, and went inside (well dragged the dog in a somewhat panicky fashion since he was clearly having a great time getting to know José). As I was hurriedly walking up the stairs, trying to get some distance, he asked me if he could take me to dinner at a restaurant next week. “I pay” he said. I guess I should be flattered… and I’m sure it was harmless… but the entire situation left me feeling vulnerable. I’m not sure why I didn’t lie to him, why I didn’t tell him to get lost… maybe there is this part of me that doesn’t want to come off as a bitch, or maybe deep down I knew he was harmless? Mostly I think I was just caught off guard… I wasn’t really planning for a sketchy man to walk into my front yard… (though with the porta potty there I’m not sure why I wasn’t expecting it… it’s been happening for weeks).

All that being said, my neighborhood is normally pretty great. There isn’t always a porta potty in plain view, most of the neighbors are actually nice, I’m blocks from the farmers market, a quick walk downtown, and I’m still in love with the house. I’d be a little more in love if it had a fenced in yard… but at least I have good stories (and a can of pepper spray just in case).