Mrs Argentina and her continued rudeness

As you all know, Mrs Argentina convinced us to have one of our Locust trees removed, and a debacle ensued.

Recently, we had new windows put in, and they are really nice. But not sufficient for her, as she has commented numerous times now that she thinks we need siding. Apparently wood shingles aren't good enough for her.

Then, literally 3 days ago new neighbors moved in across the street from us. A young couple, our age, with kids. My husband was across the street introducing himself and chatting with the new neighbor when Mrs Argentina comes over, and before introducing herself by name, tells the husband that they need to remove their big tree in the front yard because too many of the leaves fall in her yard. Across the street.

SHE IS SO RUDE.

Not to mention, she is literally here less than 6 months of the year. What do you care? Just sell your house if you hate all your neighbors so much and live in Maryland year round. It would make my life so much easier.

the recliner

last spring, we got new beige carpet in our living room. Actually, it is more of an off white than beige. what was I thinking - I don't know, on the 2x2 inch square they give you to look at in the store, it seemed a bit darker. none the less, I love it. And I vacuum it religiously. and I admire it. and I lay on it, and an rub my bare feet into it.

Also about the same time, my husband was working part-time-ish for a guy moving furniture on the weekends. Mostly old people moving into senior living communities. And they were always giving stuff away. So, he got a long-desired recliner from some old lady for free. It was mauve and ugly and annoying, and I spent a bunch of money on a nice slip cover so I could tolerate looking at it. and this recliner has been the bane of my existence ever since.

At Christmas time, when we moved the recliner to put up the tree, we found a nice black grease stain on my beautiful carpet. I scrubbed and Resolved and scrubbed some more until only a very vague hint of stain remained. I told my husband (under penalty of death) that if he wanted that recliner back, he would have to get something underneath it. He eventually got matching carpet remnants to place underneath. I was satisfied with this. Until one day, I found another grease stain from where the feet part came out. You know, where it extends all the way out.

We had a giant fight, my husband moved the chair around the room a few more times, I scrubbed another spot. and eventually, we worked something out.

Well, that recliner finally broke. It is out at the street. And no one has taken it. There it sits, in all it's mauve glory. Pink and rain soaked. And no one will get it off my front lawn. I thought for sure at least the scrap metal collector guys would take it. but no. there it sits. thankfully, tomorrow is trash day. it will finally go.

and now, all we can talk about is the next recliner. ugh.

good little recycler

We bought our weed mat and our mulch today and got that all taken care of in the front beds. I was so excited, this year we bought mulch made out of recycled tires! This may not be a new phenomenon, but I am really psyched about it. And it looks really really great!

Son of Argentina, and the breaking down of a Chinese Liaison

Mrs. Argentina and the rest of her family broke us down. The offered to pay 2/3 of the cost of tree removal, so we broke. I’ve always said, if they want it out so bad, they can pay for it. The truth of the matter is that we wanted to have some of the branches that hung over the roof removed. Our 1/3 would have been equal to the cost of that. So we obliged. They were at the house today removing the tree. I don’t like it. Not one bit. We will be left with a solo tree in our front yard. And an open door for the Argentinas to think they can force us to do whatever work they see fit to our house. Mrs. Argentina already told us when we brought over the check that we needed to get siding because she thought the house looked“disgusting”. Ballsy, indeed.

Also, Son of Argentina scares the crap out of me. For many reasons.
1. He is a total mama’s boy. He vacations with his mother. He lives with his parents by choice at 27 (rather than by economic circumstances), and he acts just like her.

2. When talking – and he loves to hear himself talk – he will make odd gestures while making it seem how wonderful he is. For example, he was over last night helping my husband move some furniture. He was telling a story about the man he shares an office with. He said “Joe, who I share an office with”, and then a long dramatic pause, with a slight cock of the head, and fingers to the chin, looking thoughtfully at the ceiling, he says “And it is really quite a beautiful office”, and then went on to tell the rest of the story about the office mate. Weirdo.

3. He noted that while studying for the LSAT in his dining room each night, he looks through our window to see what we are doing and what we are watching on television. Blinds now closed.

4. He made effort to speak of the guns that belong to his brother that are still in his parent’s home, and how he has a loaded AK47 type gun loaded under his bed. Safety first in Irondequoit.

5. His mama called when he was over to “check and see if everything was alright” because she expected him home sooner. Seriously. She called from next door to check on her 27 year old son.

I want the Argentinas to pack up and move to Maryland. Not for the normal 5 months of the year. Forever.

in other news.....

I figured out what the abdominal pain was. I was calling it "punched gut syndrome" but it was really that I ate too much cheese on Friday night.

I had more blood drawn today. They are starting to get to know me by name at the lab.

Home Slice told me today that she didn't like People magazine because they try to act like a real magazine by adding human interest stories to cover up the fact that they are indeed just gossip. I guess I never noticed, and now I will forever notice this fact.

The sea monkeys I got for Christmas are starting to get big, and we stirred them up with a straw today, a straw with no wrapper on it...

I am so out of the loop that I didn't know there was an earthquake in England recently. Apparently, the bridge near my grandmother's house is closed now. Not that she drives, she is 96.

We got our tax refund, and cant decide whether or not we should dump it back into our debt or redo the bathroom. I hate the bathroom very much, but then again, to pay a nice chunk off of our debt would be nice. The question is, can I live with a gross tub and pink floor tiles for another year or so? Ironically, the only other thing that came in the mail today was an advertisement for Bath Fitter.

And I am making sesame chicken and broccoli for dinner.

I'm in hiding

Argentina and Mrs Argentina bug us constantly about our trees.

We have two trees in our front yard that she calls "dirty trees". Not in the naughty way, in the filth kind of way. And in her defense, she is right, they are annoying and disgusting. I think they are locust trees (if there is such a thing?). Anyway, they have been bothering us literally since the day we moved in to have then taken out. They don't like how all the dirty nasty little leaves get in their yard and they don't like that the shallow roots have "destroyed" their driveway.
Of course, they make no effort to assist in the payment for said removal.

Anyway, I pulled into my driveway after work, and there is a work type truck in their driveway, and I see that there is someone cutting their trees and removing the debris. Then I see Mrs Argentina using the mans clippers to cut something. She is kind of picky, and my guess was it wasn't to her liking. Anyway, I rushed in the garage and shut the door as quickly as possible before she found me to complain about our trees.

They really are nice people, really.