Yellow House in the North Country: Thanksgiving

My time off from work has all been used due to the neighbor abuse we experienced at the old house plus the move to escape that dangerous situation. There were many days that the neighbors prevented me from working. Not only did I have to use all my vacation time, but I had to take unpaid time off from work too. The harassment at work from the bad neighbors at the old house was so severe, it put my job in jeopardy. 

Thankfully, that is behind us now. We were able to leave the house where we were harassed daily and the neighbor’s attempted arson. However, there is still fallout from those events. Part of that fallout is that I had to work Thanksgiving, Black Friday, and the Saturday after Thanksgiving trying to make up time. 

Surprisingly, I did have a few invitations to Thanksgiving in our new location. I had to turn them down due to working and due to covid. N95 respirators only work to prevent covid if they are worn on your face properly. 

The neighbor right next to me – the first one to come over and introduce herself when we moved in – brought me a plate of food. I was so grateful that she was kind enough to think of me.

To be honest, I was feeling a little down about Thanksgiving. Even though we are safe in a new home, it just doesn’t feel like the holidays this year. It’s hard learning a new area after being forced out of an area I lived in and knew for 25 years. That is the reality of what happened – we were bullied and harassed out of an area we knew. Our lives were threatened. We are starting over somewhere new.

My favorite Thanksgiving movie is Pieces of April with Katie Holmes. There is a scene in the movie where she explains the meaning of Thanksgiving to her neighbors who do not speak English. To paraphrase, she explained that there was this one time when people just realized that they needed each other, and they came together due to that need. 

It was the plate of food that neighbor brought me and the kindness of another neighbor in the days after Thanksgiving that finally helped me to feel the true meaning of the holiday this year. 

When we lived 3 hours south in the old house, I used to say we would get nickel and dimed with snow – half an inch here, half an inch there. It was just enough snow to be annoying, but not enough to really plow or shovel or cause problems.

Here in the North Country, you get your money’s worth of snow and then some. To be honest, I am having culture shock with the snow up here and it is only December. I wonder if I am hardy enough to live in the North Country with the winters here. 

Yes, I’ve always said I wanted to live up here when I retired. Honestly, I had a very romanticized idea of what that would look like. I did not factor in the reality of three senior cats and being completely alone because we fled an abuse situation. 

We have been getting about 7-8 inches of snow every other day since Thanksgiving. There are constant winter weather warnings and travel advisories. The roads have been closed once already. It’s snowing right now, and when I went out to shovel, there is at least 3 feet of snow out front. I’m not exaggerating.

My weight is still low due to health issues I have been having the past year due to the neighbor abuse at the old house. I’m under 90 pounds, unintentionally. There is no way I can handle a snowblower.

For weeks, I have been calling every single ad I see for snowplowing. I have asked all the neighbors and everyone I see, from the librarian to the postmaster, for recommendations for snowplowing.

I call and leave messages. I name drop, saying “this person told me to call you.” No one calls me back. 

The Tuesday before Thanksgiving, someone answered their phone. I told them I saw their ad in our local flier for snowplowing and would like an estimate. He told me, “I don’t go to that town.” You have an ad in our local flier advertising snowplowing for this town, and you don’t come here? Well, thank you for answering the phone at least. I have left dozens of messages, and no one calls me back.

Knowing I cannot handle a snowblower, I did get an electric shovel. It weighs 20 pounds. I know I can handle it. My thought was that it is like a mini show blower. If I keep up on the snow it will be fine.

How very wrong I was.

That first big snowfall on Thanksgiving, I went outside after work. I can only shovel twice a day – before work and after work. By the time I got outside after work, there was already way too much snow for the electric shovel to handle. 

The neighbor across the street saw me struggling with the electric snow shovel. He came over and used his snowblower and cleared my driveway for me. He explained that he is retired, but his wife still works, so he keeps their drive clean. He used to help the woman who lived in this house before me (she passed away). 

Now he is helping me too.

I offered to pay him. He refused. At least let me give you gas money, that machine costs money in gas. He refused. 

His kindness has helped me feel Thanksgiving in a way I haven’t felt in a very long time. As it was said in Pieces of April, there was a time when people needed each other. 

I still need to figure out something kind to do for him for helping me. Even though he is helping me with the snowblower, I am still going out twice a day to shovel (unless he beats me to it with the snowblower.)

Having his help with the snow in the driveway and front has freed me up to be sure that my back deck is shoveled. I know to keep the snow off that due to the weight of snow. So I am shoveling the back deck when the neighbor helps me with the driveway.

Words cannot express how grateful I am for the help.

Even though I had to work on the actual holiday, our first Thanksgiving in the North Country is one for the records books. I am so thankful for kind neighbors. Even if they did not help me with snow and remember me on the holiday, just the fact that we are safe here and our lives are not in danger is the greatest gift. 

We are getting more snow now. It’s only December. We have 3 feet of snow. I’m sick of it. It’s going to be a long winter. I’m struggling to get the car out. I’m struggling to get my mail. I’m struggling to get to the grocery store, the vet office, and anywhere else we need. 

Even though I am struggling with winter, I am grateful that we are safe. We are together. We have neighbors who are not actively trying to murder us (truly, that is what the old neighbors did – they tried to murder us with the arson and other physical injuries they caused). 

We are forced to learn a brand-new area because we had to escape an abuse situation. This is the hardest thing I have ever done. Yet I’m grateful we are together and safe. 

Last year I had to deal with the 20-year-old child across the street having some sort of drug induced psychosis and driving his truck into the bushes and front porch of my house. 

This year, we are in a place where neighbors bring me a plate of food and help me with snow. 

Happy Thanksgiving from the Yellow House in the North Country. 

We are hoping the Yellow House in the North Country will be a new series on the blog.

House-iversary 5

Today is our 5 year House-iversary. Five years ago today, we bought this house to keep us together and prevent us from becoming homeless (again). Purchasing this house was the first time I have ever lived in a house.

It’s been a long 5 years. I do love the house. However, I was unaware when I bought it that the house is in a horrible location. The sellers had inherited the house from a deceased relative and failed to do the “bad neighbor disclosure.” I have to do the bad neighbor disclosure when I sell the house. If the disclosure had been done when I was buying the house, I would have looked twice about my purchase. 

When I say the neighbors are bad, I must clarify that by saying this is the worst place I have ever lived in 40 years. I have been homeless and lived on the streets. I had better “neighbors” while homeless than I have right now. 

Here is a very short, abbreviated list of highlights of what the neighbors have done over the past 5 years:

Taken a baseball bat to the siding on the side of the house

Broken my bedroom window

Punctured my ear drum with their loud music (yes, it was that loud to puncture ear drums)

Caused me to lose my job due to excessive noise

Drove their vehicle into the front of the house twice, almost killing us while sleeping

Caused over $4,000 in damage to car and house with repeated illegal firework displays

Smeared feces all over my front door

Blocked driveway so I have been unable to leave the property for medical appointments or to escape them 

Pointed a gun in my face and threatened to shoot me when I knocked on the door to ask them to stop blocking my driveway so I could go to a doctor appointment for chemo

Found used condoms in my garage, as well as installed an outhouse right next to my garage because they cannot afford to repair their indoor bathroom 

That is just a very short list of highlights of the extremely long list of things they have done. The local sheriff department refuses to do anything about the behavior. They claim that all of this is legal. I am no longer allowed to call the sheriff department when any of this happens, as they said my complaints are considered “harassment.” I now have two rooms in my house I am not able to even use due to damages that happened when they drove their vehicle into the front of my house, and yet I am the one “harassing” them by reporting it?

The goal of all of these actions by my neighbors is that they want me to sell the house. You see, the perpetrator is the mayor’s brother. Of course, the mayor is above the law. The mayor’s brother is trying to buy up properties in this area and is low-balling all of the prices due to the bad neighbor disclosure. I’ve heard that he was pissed when my offer went through on the house over his low-balled offer five years ago. 

The logic in all of these events is that if they harass me enough, I will sell the house. Not only will I sell the house, but they will be able to buy it at a really low price because the neighborhood is so horrid. 

As much as I would love to sell the house to escape these neighbors, I can’t. If I sell this house, we will be homeless. We have no place to go. You see, this house is the only thing keeping us together. So we need to stay here.

The best solution would be for the neighbors to stop harassing us. It’s absolutely terrifying to have a gun shoved in your face when you try to ask someone to stop doing what they are doing. However, the sheriff department insists that all of this is legal. If you go onto someone else’s property to talk to them, they are allowed to shoot you. Welcome to America.

Honestly, I love this house. I hate the neighbors. 

There are 5 reasons why I fell in love with this house. One of those reasons is for the living room which I can’t even use anymore because that is the room the neighbors have driven into twice now with their car. I don’t feel safe using the living room anymore. It’s possible that the third time they drive into the living room, we will be killed. So I completely emptied all the furniture out of the living room and no longer use that room. They have driven into the house twice in five years. I’m sure it will happen again. 

For the record, the house is set back from the street. So they drove over a strip of grass and a sidewalk to drive into the front of the house. They went completely off road. We do not live on a curve or on the end of the street. This was deliberate. The house has been here for over 100 years. No one has ever driven into the front of the house until now. It is being done deliberately to either kill or terrify us. You see, if I die, then they can buy the house cheap as well.

They noise is deliberate also. If I lose my job due to noise, I can’t pay the mortgage and they can buy the house in foreclosure. If they puncture my ear drums enough to cause hearing damage so I can no longer work, they can force me out of the house too. Their actions are all deliberate.

So this year is House-iversary 5. This house is keeping us together. It is preventing us from being homeless. 

I am grateful for the house, but the neighbors are horrible. I just wish they would stop so I could enjoy being a first time homeowner and enjoy living in our “forever house” that I will probably die in (hopefully not prematurely from being murdered by the neighbors). 

When I bought this house 5 years ago, it was the answer to a prayer to keep us together and not be homeless. Over the past 5 years the dream has quickly turned into a nightmare due to the neighbors. 

As much as I want to leave and as bad as it is, I am more scared of being homeless. This house is the only thing keeping us all together.

So here is hoping that the neighbors stop with the harassment. I have no recourse for their actions, as the sheriff states everything they are doing is legal. I never knew it was legal to purposefully damage people’s property and physically hurt them. I always thought those types of actions were illegal, but this is America after all. This is the country in which we live.

Here’s hoping the next 5 years will be better than the last 5 years. (I doubt it, but there is nothing I can do to change the situation.)

How to Escape the Neighbors

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The horses of the apocalypse thundered through the heavens as if millions were stampeding across the sky. It started as a low rumble that gradually grew to overtake you, steamrolling you until your body quivered with the force of their power.

Then, total silence.

No birds.

No rain.

Suddenly, a crack as if the Devil himself snapped a whip so sharp that lightning turned dark into day.

One drop.

Two drops.

A light pitter patter.

The heavens opened as if all the angels were wailing tears upon the earth. Rain so hard and so fast that flash flooding was instant. It went on for hours. A storm so passionate, it was as if you were fighting for your very soul.

Meanwhile, I’m laying in the backseat of the car wrapped in a fleece blanket waiting for a break in the storm so I can run out and pee. I’m wondering if the same storm is happening at home and if the cats are okay. Simon is terrified of thunder.

Through the haze and above the noise, pierces a heavily accented French voice “the weather for the rest of the day …”

The French was coming from the radio, as I was about 20 miles from the Canadian border.

It sounds like a weird dream, but this is, in fact, real life. It is one of the top 3 worst thunderstorms I have been through while on a camping trip over the past 20 years.

This past weekend, I had an ADK intermezzo. It’s been about 8 years since I have had an intermezzo. Hopefully, this will be followed at some point by the real mccoy, but that concept is highly doubtful this year.

While the goal is to create a life you don’t need to escape, I had not had a vacation in almost two years, and I was ready to slap someone. Typically my annual August/Labor Day camping trip has served as a sort of reset button for me – a refreshing change of perspective for 3 days that helps me to successfully power through another year. Since I am running a half marathon over Labor Day weekend this year, I decided to go camping over Memorial Day weekend so I could have a break.

I have successfully minimized and slowed my life down to the point where I was able to navigate the many challenges that have come into my life over the past 2 years without completely losing my mind. That is a definite win.

In the time span between my last vacation and this past weekend, I lived through these changes: my dream job decided to close the New York location, so I had to take a new job (one of the worst I’ve had with a $7,000 pay cut), Kitty passed away, we adopted Simon, I went through my housing crisis from hell and bought a house, and I have been having yet to be determined neurological issues.

I’m not sure how I’ve been able to make it this long and through all that still intact. I credit it to my minimalist lifestyle philosophy.

Still, there comes a breaking point for every person, and I have pretty much reached mine. This past weekend I had an Adirondack (ADK) Intermezzo, to put a pause button on life and to take a breather.

Thus, the tale that started this post of the epic thunderstorm on night one of my camping trip. I was reserved, paid for, and scheduled for a typical two night camping trip. I ended up coming home after one.

There was nothing wrong with the trip itself. Epic thunderstorm aside, I was having a great time, and felt immensely safe. Therein lies the problem.

Since I purchased my new house last fall and have moved in, I have to admit that I do not feel safe in my own house.

I moved from a rural, isolated apartment community comprised primarily of senior citizens. I was the longest tenant in the building. I knew all of my neighbors. No one was a problem. I felt safe there. I never had an issue with leaving the cats for a camping trip over a 3 day weekend. Someone always had a key to my apartment to check on the cats just in case. I would just go off in the woods with absolutely no problem.

With this camping trip, I was apprehensive to leave the cats. No one has my spare house key. All the people who were helping me will no longer visit me. The house is 7 miles father away from most of my friends than my apartment was, and I now “live too far away” for them. It was my first time leaving the cats alone in the house overnight.

I set them up with the automated cat feeder, so they would still be fed at their usual times while I was gone. I left 12 bowls of water. Both cat pans were clean.

I went camping and had a great time. Epic thunderstorm aside, I slept better camping that I sleep in the house.

That’s when it hit me.

I feel more safe sleeping in a tent outside in the middle of nowhere alone than I do inside my own house.

Then I panicked because my cats were alone in the unsafe house without me there to protect them. No one has a key if something goes wrong because either people are too far away to know something is wrong, or they straight up don’t care.

I could not in good conscious stay the second night knowing that I was in a completely safe situation and my cats were not. If something happened to them while I was gone, I would never forgive myself.

So I cut my trip short and came home a day early.

This sucks epic-ly, because I never fully got the chance to completely relax on my trip. I did not have enough time away.

I came home and the cats were fine. For the moment. Things were not fine yesterday when I was home and someone decided to break one of my rain gutters and remove the door to my crawl space.

I have a problem with the neighbors where my house is located. To be exact, I have a problem with the neighborhood children. I am not anti-child. I taught pre-school for over a decade. I like children in general. I just loathe the children in my neighborhood.

To make matters more complicated, I don’t know their names or what house they all belong to, but I’m sick of things being broken, my space being violated, and having them scare the shit out of me literally.

As scary as I made out the thunderstorm at the beginning of this post, the neighborhood children are more scary. They are creepy.

I came home from work last week and one of them was standing about 5 feet away from me staring at me as I put my key in the door to let myself in the house. He didn’t say anything. He just ran away when I looked at him.

The kids are constantly on my property without asking. They move things. They play on the fire pit after I yelled at them not to, they go in my garage. They hide just outside my house windows and stare at me or scare me when I am sitting on the couch reading a book.

Who does this? Who goes on someone’s property and does this?

Don’t tell me to close the curtains. It’s my property. People should not walk up to someone else’s house and stand in front of their window staring inside at them. It’s not right.

Who goes into someone else’s garage, their fire pit, moves things in their yard, and breaks pieces off their house intentionally because they think it is fun? It’s not just me.

There are older neighbors in their 70s on the one side of me. I have stood at my kitchen window and watched a group of these neighborhood children purposefully remove the lattice from the bottom of my older neighbor’s porch so that they can go under the porch to play. Then the 70-some year old gentleman will notice the lattice is removed and affix it. I watch this happen. He thinks it’s the wind, when it’s really the children destroying his property.

By the way, the average age range of these free roaming neighborhood children is kindergarten through second grade.

I would talk to the parents of the children if I knew which houses the children came from. I don’t know who to talk to. And what type of interaction will that be? Um, your child is destroying my property, can you please supervise them more closely? I’m sure I would piss people off.

Bottom line, I do not feel safe living in this house. I never know who is going to be staring at me through my own windows, I don’t know who is lurking around on my property, and I never know what I am going to find broken.

I feel chained to this house.

I’m not happy.

I can’t even take a two day camping trip anymore to relax because I don’t know what I am going to come home to or if the cats will be okay if I leave them alone with these fiends.

These children don’t talk to me. They don’t tell me their names. Never has anyone knocked on my door and asked if they could play in my yard.

If they knocked on the door, told me their names, and asked to play in the yard, I would probably say yes as long as they stay in the grass and not near the fire pit.

Some of these kids are out late. They don’t appear to have a curfew. When I was growing up, you came in when the street lights turn on. I have had moments when one of these kids was staring at me through my own window at 9:00 pm. It doesn’t seem to matter if it is a school night or a weekend.

I’m thankful that I was able to go camping for at least one night to escape this situation. I wish I had stayed for the full two nights. This has not felt like a vacation at all.

I don’t know how to deal with bad neighbors because I have never had bad neighbors. Even times when I was homeless and living on the streets, people were more respectful than this. Yes, there were times we were sleeping out in the open, but there is like an unspoken thing with homeless people that you respect people’s personal space when they have claimed a spot. Personal space was pretty much the only thing we had.

I have no idea how to deal with these neighbors and their evil, unruly children. All I know is that I do not feel safe in my own house.

Any suggestions?