Friday, July 16, 2010
How I Wish!
This past Wednesday he decided to start reshingling his roof. They'd had a leak ever since they moved in seven years ago, he told me, and he finally was tackling it.
In order to pry off the double layer of shingles that run down a narrow slope on the side on the house, he had to remove a piece of the godawful ugly aluminum siding they have on their house. And look what was revealed:
I figured there was no way Mr. Westneighbor* had any idea what he'd uncovered. So yesterday, when I ran into Mrs. Westneighbor outside, I invited her upstairs to take a look. Maybe, maybe if she saw what I'd seen, she'd get inspired and tell her husband and maybe they'd take all that filthy siding off and repair the shingles underneath. Then not only would their house look better, but mine would look better next to it!
"Oh. That's interesting," said she noncommittally.
And I need to keep my mouth shut about it, even if I'm the one who has to look at it. It would be different if Mr. and Mrs. Westneighbor and I had ever grown to be friendly. But for some reason, whenever I open my mouth to them, especially to him, I get the feeling I am highly disapproved of. And in my sinful human weakness, I return the favor. I don't approve of his aesthetic sense. I don't like the fact he never mows his lawn (I and the neighbor on the other side do it when we can't stand it any more). I don't like the butcher job he did on the shrubs that face my property. I don't like his overgrown silver maple that sends its seedlings all over the neighborhood. I don't like his ugly stained siding. And I don't like the fact that I struggle with feeling so uncharitable towards him. So if I say word one about the expanding foam, my frustration and disapproval will leak out all over the place.
This is my problem and I have to deal with it. Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa!
At least I can't see that awful foam job from my bedroom window. But with my bad attitude, maybe I could use the mortification.