Welcome to my little ol' blog. I'll be upfront about it: I don't blog very often any more. If you found your way here because you read my book "Trailer Life," have a gander! But it's easier to keep up with me on Instagram or on my Facebook page. I have this long, drawn out theory on why I'm a terrible blogger, but that is a story for another day. Enjoy the ramblings of my life from the last 8 years or so.

Friday, August 1, 2008

These are the people in our neighborhood

The Biologist- "It's terrible that you guys disced up your property lines in the spring. There was a king bird nesting there and he lost his home. However, since you did disc, there has been a proliferation of this rare flower called the monkey flower. There is a grouping of them in this canyon over there, and now on your property. Blah, blah blah, more scientific genus and species... oh, and if you put in a fence, I highly reccomend a deer friendly one. The top strand is smooth and the bottom strand is at least 16 inches off the ground. It won't keep people out, but that's what guns are for." Me: I hate biology. I think you are weird. Stay off my property. Won't keep people out? So it wouldn't keep kids or dogs in. Guns? I'll shot someone if I have to, under extreme duress, but why even make me come to that point? Good fences make good neighbors. You weirdo. Of course said in my head, not to him. Ya hippie.
The Night Lights- "I like to keep my yard lights on at night because it bugs the neighbors." Nice! So we get to see your Christmas lights, with a star and cross included, 365 wonderful nights a year. Although, other than that, he seems to be almost normal and he just recently put up some solar lights instead of the Christmas lights.
The English people- They tried to report the "Night Lights" to the county hoping for some kind of violation so they would have to turn off the lights. They've lived out here for a long time, have English accents, and brought us a raisin bread cake one Christmas. They mostly keep to themselves and we are grateful. Probably the most normal out here. Besides the vacation homes of the wealthy who live in LA and then come up for a week or two every other year. They are my favorite.
The Lancaster part-timers- they just moved in a mobile home. They have made the biologist mad. (Up here, there is a huge amount of mobile homes from the the 1960's and 70's that are is disrepair, and just nasty. Some people take good care of them, but most up here are just falling apart.) The Biologist is all upset because their mobile home knocked down his property value by $60,000-$70,000. Whatever. They live in Lancaster/Palmdale and are slowly transitioning up here for retirement. They seem nice enough.
Then there is us. I am sure they think we are nuts. There is always a project going on outside, and I'm always yelling at the kids. ("Ed! Ed! Where are you?" "Don't go that far!" "What are you doing with that? That's dangerous!" "Get out of Dad's tools!" "Ed! Get back here!" and on and on... it would appear to an observer that yelling at my kids is my favorite hobby. It's not. It's just what you do when you have heathens that are an acre or two away.) Ryan occaisionally rides his motorcycles. They hate both, I'm sure- a really loud dirt bike, and a really loud Harley.
I met the guy who "developed" the property around here. Everyone up here thinks he's crazy. He told me my property was zoned commercial and the lot next to us is too. (The county disagrees) He told me we could put in a 7-11 if we wanted to. GREAT! My own private gas station and convenience store! Seriously, there is no one out here.


  1. Your neighborhood is a lot more interesting than ours! We just have one crazy guy.

  2. Ditto for us too. We don't have any crazy guys. The no fence thing is strange to us too. the kids are finally aware of the boundries. the worst I have to worry about is them getting into the neighbors garden statues, not coyotes!

  3. I've been singing the song with the same title as your post...from Sesame Street. LOVE your character descriptions of everyone. Were I your neighbor, I'd vie for the crazy-lady-down-the-road spot.