Here We Go Again

It's official. We got our keys today. We are really (really!) moving. Today, after getting our keys, we packed the little girl (Lily) and the other little girl (Penny) and trekked to our new digs. The house is about two miles down the road, close enough that I've run down the street that runs beside it, but the neighborhood is infinitely better than where we currently reside. No bums knocking on doors, no one wandering around the neighborhood, and from what I hear from a friend, the neighbors are actually friendly.

Let me back up a minute, here, to Sunday when I had to call the cops on our next door neighbors. Sunday was lovely and the weather was perfect. Early in the afternoon, I set up a blanket in the back yard, and Lily and I laid on it while I read a magazine and Penny ran around. It was so nice that I decided I'd take Lily to the park and go for a jog. When I went out to the car to load the jogging stroller, I found a letter that had been thrown on our porch and the lattice that had been blocking Penny from getting under our house was broken into three pieces and thrown in the front yard. All while I was at home with Lily.

The thing is, we had gotten a letter like this before. It was the same week that we thought we were moving into the other house. Both letters were quite vulgar, accusing us of turning on their faucets and writing them a letter about Michael Donald (the last man to be lynched by the KKK), telling us that we're poor and should go to the Salvation Army to buy food, and that we shouldn't hang our clothes outside because the house we rent came with a washer and dryer. Um . . . what? (Also, the guy who owns the business across the street also got a similar letter that he didn't understand.)

The first letter we dismissed, mostly because we thought we were moving and weren't sure it was our neighbors. But this time I was sure. This letter talked particularly about how we said good morning to them the day before and that we should never talk to them again. Also, there was something about our dog slowly dying (like, um, how we're all slowly dying?) and that we have a half empty house (???). So, I called Adam, who was working Sunday, and then called the cops.

Long story short, the neighbors admitted everything and the cops told them if they do anything further, they won't hesitate to put them in jail. Awesome, huh? Thankfully, we had already put a deposit on this new place and, like I said, the neighborhood is much nicer. Hopefully, our neighbors won't be crazy and will at least be grown up enough to talk to us if there's a problem.

So, we were glad to get keys to the new place and glad to go over there and inspect every inch of it. We have a lot of cleaning to do since no one has lived there in three months, but it is certainly with joyful hearts. And we have to sell our dining room table because it won't fit -- a small price to pay.

But this is legit, not like last time. Our new landlord has an office job and wears a tie and suspenders every day. And my friend lived right next door to our new home when our landlord lived there, and she speaks very highly of him and the neighborhood. These are very good signs.