When Concerns Bring Changes... Hmm

Folks in my county have been in an utter uproar over the extreme hikes in our property taxes.

I have to admit the hike was out of the blue. Property taxes went up by some 50% for some folks.

My taxes increased by 800%.

Mind you, my taxes were artificially low. I went to the property tax office a few years ago to talk to the peoples about it. They assured me the taxes were correct.

This made sense, since the market was low and I lived next door to a foreclosure. Oh yeah, there was a foreclosure across the street too. And several around the neighborhood.

And that was fine, as long as they didn't circle back trying to jack me for tax money. Fine.

But enter

GENTRIFICATION.

When I saw white folks jogging, walking their dogs, and pushing baby strollers, I thought... uh... here WE go.

I knew a hike was coming. Especially when they built that state-of-the-art park a couple of blocks from the house. And when they started pulling up asphalt and laying down beautiful bricks, bricks that you could drive over...

GENTRIFICATION.

I didn't worry much about this hike in taxes. First of all, mine are around 20% below the expected tax value. And I can always write it off on taxes.

But I was watching the news, and people's property taxes were going from $15,000 to $30,000. That is some craziness indeed.

I spoke with one of my beloved white friends about this. "If ya'll got $15,000, ya'll can come up with the rest. Ya'll got money like that."

She set me straight on that. As always. I have my misconceptions about white folk. You know how it's shoved down our throats about how perfect their lives are. She tends to yank me back into reality.

"These white folks gonna raise hell, though," I said. "You watch. They're not going for that."

"You gonna appeal?" she asked.

"Nope. I'm gonna depend on these white folks to go crazy."

So I waited.

And then I got this in the mailbox the other day:

Look how they have "Due to concerns raised by residents..." in bold print.

You know what it is.

I know what it is.

Even that fat cat Mitch know what it is:

Look at the look on his face. He know what's up.

This is what it should've said.

I spoke on the phone with my beloved white friend. She said, "You know, I saw that on the news and thought 'LadyLee was right. They are not going for it'."

"I told you," I said. "No way."

I expect my tax notice to stay the same. But if they want to return it to last years tax, have at it. That is fine by me.

They best not upset the pioneers, these Christopher Columbus types, who have "discovered" inner city living ever again.

Believe that!

I don't have a problem with gentrification. People in general get tired of living in the suburbs. I lived in my neighborhood some 20 years ago when I was in grad school and I LOVED it. If I ever caught a house down there, I was snatching it up. I did that when prices were sky high. But at the same time, people will be priced out. I should be fine. I thought about all of this some 10  years ago when I bought my house. I am STILL mad about having to spend $2000 on a lawyer over 2 feet of fence in my backyard. But it is what it is. 

I wish a good 100 of us could get together and buy up and fix up houses in our hood.  Then this wouldn't be an issue, wouldn't it.

But here's a piece of food for thought...

Whenever I have to research a city that I am using in a story...

I notice whenever the blacks in the community try to have a nice neighborhood and businesses and schools and such, there's a bit of fire bombing, lynching, and highway building, etc...

You would be absolutely SHOCKED  at the history of some of the neighborhoods within a 5 mile radius of my house. SHOCKED.  

I'm just saying...

Selah.

Tent City Blues

So...

There has been an ongoing protest concerning the gentrification of my neighborhood.

And some of the protesters set up a "tent city" down at the local stadium, which is about half a mile from my house.

Of  course I took pictures while waiting at the stoplight. 

 

They were there for some two months.  But now it has been removed.

There were complaints of  it being an eyesore and  a health hazard. I don't know how much it accomplished. I saw them on the news a few time, but let's face it... $300 million is being put into that area.

And like I said, white folk are walking up and down my street "considering" houses.

So gentrification is HERE. Nothing much that could be done about it. If we as a people were financially savvy enough to buy up our own neighborhoods, then the problems would be solved. Alas, that isn't the case.

I think a lot of people are going to be priced out. The property taxes shot up, which I expected. I opened my notice, and all I could do was LAUGH.

They are going to have to do a bit more than raising my taxes by 800% to get rid of me. And it's still lower than it was before the recession, so... whatever. I will pay it and keep it moving.

A new family moved in behind and to the left of me. They did catch me on a fence issue. Cost me $2000 on a good lawyer to take care of something as simple as.... 3 feet of fence.

Hmm...

That felt horrible. It was like taking a fist full of money and setting it on fire. My next door neighbor is PISSED and he is fighting it. I don't see the reason for me fighting folk and going to court over a few feet of fence line. Nope.

So I can understand the protesters taking a stand. I don't think it will help much of anything. When $$$ is involved, those without it be damned.

I hope my neighbors can afford the change... and the ride.

And not have to leave their homes.

In My Hood...

There are all kinds of great things going on in my neighborhood.

A state-of-the-art park has been built.

They are changing some of the streets from asphalt to brick...

And last year, I noticed that the old brick middle school was torn down.

Thank goodness because it was super old. The bricks were falling apart. It was just old.

And I saw that a new school was being built.

"How nice," I thought.

Well, I was driving past it last month after casting my vote in a local election. (And I was in *side-eye* mode because my polling spot had been changed. Ya'll not gonna suppress my vote. I  found the place and I cast my vote. Humph).

And I came upon the FINISHED middle school.

Look at that!

HOW FANCY IS THAT!?!?!

That looks like a fancy office building, doesn't it.

I know one thing...

Love it or hate it...

Gentrification sure does do a neighborhood good!

Changes in my Hood, Part III: More Bricks, More Bricks

So...

As I've mentioned in a previous blog post, they are ripping up the asphalt of the streets of my hood and laying down bricks.

This sounds like something that would happen on the white side of town the far northern ATL suburbs, but it is happening in my hood. Interesting...

I live in the gentrified hood, so uh... nevermind.

Anyway, I've had to roll through the backside of my neighborhood in order to avoid the horrific baseball traffic. It's not a problem, as my commute from work is 5.5 miles instead of 4.5 miles. No problem!

And I came across more bricked up streets in the back of the hood.

Check it out.

That's beautiful. But if you look at it closely, it's crooked! I wonder why?

Here's another picture at an intersection.

That gravel in the crevices is a bit unnerving. It looks like there might be some settlement issues later on. (I live around 2 blocks from this intersection).

Hmm...

I'm still wondering if they are going to brick up my street. 

We'll see...

To be continued....

Changes in My Hood, Part 2

A couple of weeks ago, I posted about the street changes in my 'hood.

The streets are being changed from asphalt to bricks.

Quite fascinating. Much so because this is not an affluent neighborhood somewhere on the northside. I would expect that in such places. But this is downtown ATL.

So when I went to vote a couple of weeks ago, I saw the beginnings of it.  I vote at the local elementary school a couple of streets over from my house. I saw the gravel they put down before they put down the bricks.

I almost thought about driving over it, but that raised sewer would probably tare up the bottom of my car.  I  wanted to get to the entrance driveway of the school. Luckily they had exit driveway of the school open. We all had to figure out how to maneuver around.

But that looks like much work. And I wonder how people's trash get emptied, as this process is super slow.

I will worry about all that later.

I am not sure if they are hitting my street any time soon. But they have began marking and measuring the cross street near my house... hmm...

I know that this is for our massive flooding issues. My street doesn't have problems, but other streets do.

But there is a rumor that they are building some massive $20 million complex nearby. And my alma mater is buying the Braves stadium, which is a mile from my house, when the Braves move. They will most likely develop that area.

Hmm...

We will see where this all goes...

Friday Freestyles... The Can of Whoop Ass Edition

*crickets*

The title to this post is a bit... hostile?

Yes. That's a good word.

HOSTILE.

Aaaaaaarrrrrrghhhhh *said like a gnarly pirate*

Yes, this right here is a special edition, babes. Extra special breaking news friday freestyles.

Yes, because some ol' hostile tomfoolery occurred this week. I can't wait for Shai, Ginae, ThisOneWoman, Southern Black Gal, Serenity and even sweet sweet Sasha, with her nice and calm self to read it.

Cashana would take her earrings and high heels off and rub her jaws with vaseline after she read this... So would that wanna be stripper Chocolate Drop.

I do believe Singlema will do the straight Miss Sophia walk alllllllll the way from DC to the ATL on this story.

Stomping hard, stomping hard.

It had me looking like this...

Yeah.

Continue reading to see what I'm talking about...

Anyway firsts thing first... This is your weekly edition of Friday freestyles...

Today is PAYDAY! Glory!!

Ball 'til we fizzy fizzy FALL, babes. Booooyahhhh!

And the temperatures in the ATL are O_O. Dare I say that it's a tad bit chilly? Do I have to go and find my windbreaker? I think it's in Pam's trunk. I will check on that tomorrow.

We have gone from HAWT to COOL in a matter of hours. Goodness.

This is that bad cold and pneumonia type whether. And I rebuke that. It shalt NOT come to me. No ma'am.
No Sir.

Amen.

*ladylee unfolds hands from prayer position and gets up off knees*

Now, during this time, I would put up a picture of whatever salad I ate this week. Or I'd post a quote that has tickled my fancy.

I don't want to do all that. I wanna talk about the tomfoolery that happened this week.

So...

The trash collector comes on Tuesdays for my neighborhood. I either place my herbie curbie (our rolling big trash containers) up on the sidewalk on Monday evenings after I have taken all the trash out for the evening, or I roll it up to the sidewalk on Tuesday mornings. This week, I decided to do it Tuesday morning just before leaving for work.  I cut grass this week and I had a large lawn clippings brown paper bag to put up on the curb (I keep that lawn trash in my garage when it rains too much. I take the lawn trash to the street on trash day).

I like to spend about 5 minutes cleaning out the refrigerator on trash day to clear out anything that's old. This usually takes less than 5 minutes, though.

Here's my house from the back.

You see my can. I take trash out through the garage and roll it up to the curb. Simple process.

I took my last bag of trash out to the trash can.  I looked up the driveway and I notice that a TON of police cars on my street. And police were blocking the driveway.

I am part nosey, and part miffed. I needed to leave for work within the next 10 minutes. And I needed to put my trash on the street.

And at the same time, I wanted to know what was going on.

So I rolled my herbie curbie up to curb.

I didn't see anything too unusual... just my next door neighbor Benny talking and laughing with 4 or 5 cops.

I didn't know what was going on. Obviously it wasn't a hostage situation or anything dangerous. I know Benny use to get robbed on the regular, but he has burglar bars everywhere now. So I didn't know what was going on. He drives a Beamer. Maybe someone tried to steal his car.

*lee stretching neck to look at Benny's car*

Nope. His nice Beamer looked alright.

By this time, the police truck blocking my driveway was pulling away. Thank goodness for that.

I went on to work as usual. A couple of cops were lingering. I kept it moving.

I worked all day. I attended writing class that evening.

Then I came home.

More police cars were parked outside of Benny's house.

"Got dang!" I said to myself in my car. "These cops still out here?"

I wasn't all that interested in what was going on. I needed to get my mail. And I wanted to roll my trashcan out of the street. (The sanitation folks don't know how to roll my can out of the street. Humph).

So while I am doing this, I notice Benny and several of his boys out on the front porch of his house. And they were talking to the police.

I retrieved my mail from the mailbox, and pulled my herbie curbie out the street.

And Benny comes running right up to me.

I stood stark still. I was going over in my mind what was going on and if it involved me.

"LadyLee," he said. "I'm having all kinds of trouble."

"Yeah," I replied. "I saw all the police cars out here this morning."

Benny shook his head. "I have been having a hard time getting in and out of my driveway because of all the branches from the tree next door hanging in my driveway. So I cut them back a little. And while I was cutting them back, the police rolled up hard. The next door neighbor called the police and said I had pulled a gun on her."

O_O

The next door neighbor.

THE NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOR, I said.

YOU KNOW who the next door neighbor is..

She lives 2 houses up from me.  She lives next door to Benny.

Yeah. You read about this Chicken a couple of months ago during the Conversations Week Series, in a post titled "Neighborly Conversation: Cookies, Tomatoes, and Thomas".  The neighbor that looks like a 50 year old version of the young Ceeliee. If you don't know who I'm talking about, go back and peep that post.

Yes, THAT neighbor. The one that's a little... off. The EXTREMELY negative one. The one who cusses folk out (people that live in her house), every chance she gets. And she doesn't care if the neighbors or the astronauts up in outer space at the space station hear her. She is loud about it.

She called the police on Benny and said he'd pulled a gun on her.

I am surprised Benny didn't get shot by the police. I live in the HOOD. The police shoot first and answer questions later. And if history is a predictor of future events, the police would've gotten off scott free.

Maybe they decided the pair of hedge clippers in his hand didn't look much like a gun.

Good decision (for a change).

"Well," Benny said. "I came home and this woman has thrown paint on my porch."

O_O.

"Say whut?" I hollered.

"Yes, paint on my porch. And it got on the door."

"Wow."

That's all I could say. I was floored.

Benny had ALL his boys out on his front porch. There were at least 6 or 7 of them.

I don't know if they were ready to fight. But they are all ghey. YOU DON'T WANT TO MESS WITH A GANG OF GHEY MEN. Unh-unh. Bad, bad, bad.

"And," Benny continued, "she brought the cans of paint down to your trash and put them in your disposable lawn bag with your lawn clippings."

"Say Whuuuuuut?" I said (almost hollered).

"I just wanted to let you know that the bag was taken into evidence."

Sigh. Wow. I was speechless. My fingerprints are on that bag. And I'm with the feds, which means my fingerprints are in some database somewhere. SIGH.

How on earth was this Chicken gonna bring her paint cans down to MY yard and throw it away in my lawn bag of clippings. What the world?

How unfortunate, I thought. And how crazy.

And someone saw her doing all of this, for the police to take my lawn bag into evidence. What the world!

"I think she's a alcoholic," Benny said as he peered sadly at his house.

Whatever, I thought. I see her scurrying down the street and around the corner to buy... something. I always thought she was smoking something.

Ain't no excuse for that mess.

That Benny. He's a really nice guy. He's been my neighbor for the past 7 years, and he hasn't given me a bit of trouble. I haven't given him any trouble. Just a really good guy. Plus he works with disadvantaged folks, so he tries to understand what goes on with people.

All that goes out the door when you throw paint on my house. Humph. I ain't trying to understand nothing but YOU going to jail. Believe that.

"This is all material stuff and it can be replaced," Benny said. "But I am pressing charges. She has to take responsibility for her actions."

"I know that's right," I said.

Benny went and joined his boys on the porch.

I went on in the house. I didn't know what time the police left. I didn't even look out of the window. I locked my doors and set my alarm and chilled for the evening...

Next day comes...

I leave for work. It's dreary, but light enough for me to see Benny's house. I wanted to see if I could see this paint that the woman threw on his porch. Knowing Benny and his neat self, he'd already cleaned it up.

I backed out of my driveway and slowed as I passed his house.

It can't be that bad, I thought. Just a little paint thrown... WHOA!!!

I had to stop and take a picture.

Look at the door. Paint is all on the door. It is hard to see, but that paint is on that door. On the burglar doors. On the porch. And it's dribbled all in the driveway. Whooo goodness.  I am glad she didn't come out of her house and try to do her friendly neighborly wave at me just then.  I think I would've said something to her.

"Man, what the hell is wrong with you, throwing paint on folks' houses? What is your problem??"

Oooh honey child. Can you imagine? Coming home and someone has thrown blue paint all on your porch and door and screen door? And it was all in the driveway too.

So you done messed up my nice house and my driveway?  All because I cut branches hanging over on my property? Really?

An old pastor of mine said everybody has a little mustard (crazy) left in them. And if you squeeze the mustard container hard enough, a little mustard (crazy) will still come out.

My "mustard" would've been a song.

Oh yes. I do believe I have learned much from the parrot in one of the last posts.

There would've definitely been a song in my heart... an extra special song.

*Oscar Tyrone hands LadyLee a microphone and turns on the instrumental of Patti Labelle's "If \Only You knew*

~ladylee commences to sing~

"Oooooh if... only you knew... the can of whoop ass... I'm 'bout to open on you!!!"
"Oh if... Only you knew... the caaaaaaan of whoop ass.... I'm 'bout to open on youuuuuu!
"Ohhhhhh iffffffffff! 
Ohhhhhh ifffffff!!!!"

*ladylee kicks off shoes and begins to flap her arms like Patti*

*ladylee suddenly stops singing and beats the cheese outta silly neighbor with microphone*

Oooh wee... Goodness gracious alive.

Now I consider myself a peaceful chicken. Don't won't no trouble. No trouble at all.

But stuff like this... that would cause me to open up a can of whoop ass. Several cans.

And resolve to repent later.

That's this chick's problem. She cusses folks out and is very negative and dramatic... and it all goes unchecked. So now, she's gone from cussing and talking trash to destroying people's property.

And all Benny was trying to do was cut away some of the low limbs hanging in his yard, because he couldn't get in the driveway.

I don't blame him. He has a really nice Beamer. I would not want tree branches scrubbing up against a Beamer.

Do you think I would let branches scrub up against Lucy Jr. the Lexus?

Heavens no. *clutch the pearls*

She come out the house and see the whole tree gone. As if it was never there.

I don't even want anything scrubbing up against my other car Pam the Protege. No sir. No ma'am.

And get this... and this will really trip you out... when this lady cuts her grass, she cuts it right up to my next door neighbor's driveway.  And you know how cut grass clippings get everywhere? They get in his driveway.

This broad gets her broom and sweeps her cut grass clippings out of his driveway. She sweeps his driveway clean.

So she DOES have some bit of sense as to know that you don't mess up folks property.

How does one go from that to throwing paint on someone's house??

You tell me.

She just crazy. That's all.

And in the conversation I reluctantly had on my front porch with her a few weeks ago, I saw some vestiges of her anger.  She is really upset about all the new housing in our neighborhood. "My family done owned our house for 40 years, and all the rest of this use to be apartments." She yabbered on about that. So I thought right then while she was hemming and hawwing that she's mad about the gentrification. Her house is a wreck, all dilapidated and about to fall in on itself.

This is a good time for a Food-for-Thought of the week right here: When seeds of wrath are sown into the heart and go unchecked and are allowed to take root and incubate and grow, some bad fruit is going to be produced.

And throwing paint on people's porches is bad bad fruit.

(You know how I feel about seeds and fruit and roots and trees and the like... Everything is related to that. Everything.).

Poor Benny. I'm just glad he and his boys didn't have to beat down everybody that lives next door. They were willing and able. I saw that. One of them was bouncing around like a boxer in the corner loosening up for a boxing match.  I hustled my tail on into the house. I didn't want to be witness to any craziness.

And I'm still LOST at why she would walk down to my house and put her paint cans in my lawn clippings bag.

LOST.

One thing you can do for me...

And this is a LadyLee Postulate of Life, #5513:

DO NOT INVOLVE ME IN YOUR SHADY BULLS****!
Don't you do it... Don't you even think about doing it. You better squint your eyes shut real tight and think hard about good things like bees and honey and flowers and sunshine and trees and chitlins and cornbread and the laughter of happy childrens.

But you better not involve me in your tomfoolery. Don't you do it.

Humph.

How on earth she gonna dispose of her paint cans in MY lawn trash bag.

I am glad that this paint incident didn't happen to me... or Singlema.... or that girl Tazzee... or Ginae or Shai... or That Serenity_23... or that sweet girl Sasha... I think all of us would've been sitting in the back of a cop car in handcuffs...

SMH.

That leaves room for the video of the week. It would've been the song I would've been singing right before I commence to beating the brakes off the shady neighbor... "If Only you Knew" by Patti Labelle...



I musta rehearsed the lines
A thousand times
Before I ball up my fists
And beat your assssssss!!

Cuz you don't even suspect
Could probably care less
That I cold knocked you upside your head!!!

Oh iffffffffffffffff!  Oh iffffffffffffffff!

Geesh.  I do have some more maturing to do. I need to get to the point where if someone vandalizes my house, I can remain calm. yes I do.

i just ain't there yet.

Ya'll have a good weekend. I'm gonna try to have a good weekend.

It may work out if I don't have to pass my neighbor's house and look at his front door.

Yes... I will drive the other way down the street to work... on purpose.

Neighborly Conversations: Cookies, Tomatoes and Thomas

I have a most intersting neighbor.

She lives a couple house up from me, on the same side of the street.

She reminds me of the young Celie... just aged 40 years. So I would guess that would make her age be somewhere in her late 50s.

She likes to sit out on her porch.

When I pass by in the mornings, I wave.

She waves back.

When I come home in the evenings, I wave.

She waves back.

That's the extent of it.

Why? Because I myself am not all that neighborly. I wave at folks. That's about it. I may make a little small talk, but that is not very often.

I tend to be skittish. I don't know what's going on in your house, nor do I care, so long as I'm not all up in there. 

But this lady is a bit... different.

She's extremely volatile.

How do I know that?

Because she is constantly cussing folks out.

And how do I know that?

Because she cusses them out on her front porch or out in the front yard. And I can hear her all the way down to my house.

This one man... I don't know WHAT he did... but she cussed him good. He left and walked around the block and she cussed even harder when he tried to come back in the house. He walked around the block again and she cussed him out the hardest when he returned again.

I don't know what he did. But I almost said, "Hey man, you want me to give you some change so you can catch the bus? You need to get on way from here so she can be quiet."

I suppose sometimes, you just have to say what you have to say. I chalk it up to that.

But it is just odd to be in the kitchen or living room and hear someone outside going OFF on someone.

And she is just volatile like that.

Here's my thing: if you're acting up like that in your front yard, what in the world is going on in the house?

Anyway, that's just an internal question. She might be peaches and cream in her house. Who knows.

But this brings about a need for a LadyLee life postulate. 

LadyLee postulate #57201: If you cussing everybody out, you'll eventually end up cussing me out, too.

Because of this, I steer clear of her. One of my isshas is that I don't deal well with noise, and I really don't deal well with very loud people. And then with her, she is cussing everybody out. That means I would have to watch my every word and action so as not to piss her off. And I am too old for that. I grew up like that. I just want to be me.

Now, this neighbor of mine will walk down to my house when she sees me outside cutting the grass. She will stand at the top of my driveway and point out places that I missed, etc. She hasn't done it in awhile, but I just let her do that. She may just be trying to be helpful.

But a few weeks ago, I was baking cookies for Baby Bandit's graduation party. As usual I bake too many cookies, and I have to figure out what to do with them.

I had to go out to my car for something. (I parked it in the driveway instead of the garage, since I knew I would be leaving out again later for the party).

And there was my neighbor sitting on her front porch. 

I waved.

She waved back.

"Do you eat chocolate chip cookies?" I hollered.

"What?" she hollered back.

We had to holler. A train was going by. Even though the tracks are 3/4th miles away, the train horn was blaring.

"Do you eat chocolate chip cookies?" I hollered again.

She nodded real hard.

"I'm baking some. I have extra. I'll bring you some in about 15 minutes."

She gets up from her folding chair and starts dancing real hard.

I was perplexed by this. Cookies are cookies. Even though you all seem to love my cookies so much. Cookies are still cookies. No need to get all excited.

Well, I went in the house. When the next batch of cookies were ready, I let them cool. And then I packed a small tin of 10 cookies for my neighbor. When I went back outside to give them to her, she was not sitting on her front porch.

And you know me... I was NOT going to walk up to her house and knock on her door. Nope.

So I went back in the house. I peeked out my front door a couple of times, but that was about as good as it gets.

Now I told her I'd have some cookies for her in 15 minutes. And hey, if you snooze, you lose. Period.

Some 45 minutes later there was knock at my door.

I open it, and it's my neighbor.

"I had cookies for you," I said. "But I didn't see you outside."

She frowned. "Cookies?"

"Yes, cookies," I replied. "Chocolate chip cookies."

"Aww dang!" she hollered. "I thought you said you was making fried green tomatoes!"

*crickets*

How on earth do you get "fried green tomatoes" out of "chocolate chip cookies?

"Uh, no. No tomatoes here," I said.

I could tell she was disappointed. Her mouth must have been set for some fried tomatoes. But that wasn't going down. I don't remember the last time I fried up some good tomatoes, and I wasn't about to strart.  I handed her the tin of cookies. And I say good-bye, and I go to close the door.

And she starts going off...

Not on me, but about the local who cuts my grass.

"That Thomas! He ain't no good. I grew up with him. He done stole from people all over this neighborhood! He ain't no good!"
Oh my. She was beefing with Thomas, the man who cuts my grass. I am sure he was a mess in his hey-day, but he is an old broken down man with heart problems now. He cuts people's grass for money. If I don't cut my own grass, he cuts it. (He had issues with me last summer, though. He was a tad bit perturbed about me buying a second car. They already think I'm rich. I was super rich then, whatever the heck that means).

He doesn't give me much of a problem, though. He fusses about my car from time to time. But I don't really take someone who lives in a shed behind this dude Rat Cheeze's house all that serious. My sister Kentucky gave him 2 dollars to clean up some leaves but he walked off and didn't do it. So you know Kentucky aint' dealing with him anymore. I told her he is homeless, a hustler, and he hustles, with his old self. Don't expect much honesty out of him.

(I'm still trying to figure out who this "Rat Cheeze" dude is. Haven't met him yet. I wanna know why his Mama call him that name).

Anyway, my neighbor is going OFF about this guy.

"I grew up with Thomas! He ain't no damn good! Blah blah blah!"

All this noise, I thought. Goodness.

And I barely can make out what she is saying, as she's missing most of her teeth.

"He's a halfway decent guy," I said. "He cuts my grass and that's all I can ask."

She keeps going off. I have to hear about how our street use to be apartments. And how her family owned their house for the last 50 years. And she had to see all these new houses built up.

Goodness. This was too much noise going on. I mean, she had the neck rolling going on and the finger pointing. Wow.

Then she start going in on Thomas again. I still don't know what the beef is. And she gives him plates of food from time to time.

"Well, just pray for him," I said. "That's all you can do."

That's what I do when folks are tripping. I ask God to help me deal. And help me see where I am messing up, for maybe I'm the problem. If not, then help me out of the situation, or to find some peace in the midst of it or the courage to walk away from the situation.

WHY did I even say anything about prayer!?

Oh my. She REALLY goes off then.  "God gonna get him. That's why he got heart problems. God getting him back for all those years he done did wrong. No prayer for him. God gonna GIT HIM!"
*crickets*

I wondered in those few moments about my health issues. Was God getting back at me for things?  For all the wrong I've done all my life?

I think not. I rebuke that. I don't receive that. No way, no how. TOOO much answered prayer goes on over my way. I wasn't going to let her words have me... wondering and wandering.

"You have a nice house," she said, as she tried her best to look past me and all around. "You take good care of your house here, don't you?"

I pulled the door closer and tighter toward my body. She didn't need to see inside my house. And she shoulda known good and well that she wasn't getting invited in. No ma'am.

(She told my sister in past that she cleaned houses, and that she would clean ours. I told my sister, if I come home and that chick is my house, she gotta leave. And then you (my sister), had to leave too.

"Well, I have to finish the cookies. I have to go to this party, and I don't want to be late," I finally said.

"Alright," she said.

And she was still talking... all the way down the porch steps. I think she was talking to herself.

I closed the front door.

I couldn't believe that I had been exposed to THAT much concentrated negativity in the span of 5 minutes. It almost made me regret offering her some cookies. But my need to sow some good seed daily overrides my feelings.

It is this woman's habit to behave this way. It was a part of her personality, and one of her many characteristics. Now I understood why she was constantly cussing and fussing every one out. That's just who she is.

My pastor gave a good sermon some years ago on the subject of personal development. He said whoever you are at the time, it took some time to get that way. People have the characteristics, personalities, and habits they have because those characteristics, personalities and habits developed over time. And over a span of years, these things become strongly developed, whether negative or positive.

 I remember thinking at the time, in my 30s, that I would like to develop in compassion. I would like to develop in selflessness. I would like to be a happy person. I would like to develop in kindness. There were many things that I wanted developed in my life.

"If you want to develop in something," my pastor said, "decide on it and get on the path to it. Find some Word on it. Go do some reading up on it. Listen to whatever you can concerning it.  It takes time. But it will happen."

And for the first time in a long time, that sermon came back to me. Sure, it was at least a 10-year-old sermon, but I will always remember it, especially in light of the fact that I had just experienced a high dosage of negativity. It shocked me. And I have made a big move over the past year to remove myself from any negativity. And as a result, I can see my own negativity better. And I can step up and deal with it.

And I can see, and appreciate, how much I have changed. And how I have developed in the positive things I want to develop in. I still have far to go... but I am on my way.

I told my sister about the "Cookie, Tomatoes and Thomas" conversation.

"She still up in that house? Is she still cussing everybody out?"

"Yes," I said.

"She cuss out everybody. Even the children and the dog. Just everybody."

"Yep. That's just her way," I said.

Yes. That's her way.

I didn't hear much of anything from my neighbor.

I drive by.

I wave.

She smiles.

She waves back.

One day she asked me to take her to the gas station to get some gas for her lawnmower. I told her that I had to go to my writing class. She kept harping.

Wrong thing to do with me. But I took her anyway. And little 4 year old granddaughter rode along.

I already wrote about all this. It was a most disturbing ride. Even the little girl was loud. When I asked her her name, I repeated it back to her wrong. She screamed her name loudly to correct me. Oh my. And she as touching my papers in the back seat. And she grabbed my fresh new copy of Josephine Garner's Solomon's Blues! *screech*

I just didn't want to be late to my writing class. I took them, and came on back.

"How much I owe you for taking me?" she asked.

"Nothing. Don't worry about it."

She was so happy. She grabbed my hand and kissed it profusely.

*ladylee screaming on the inside*

She and her granddaugher got out of the car.

"Slam the door extra hard, baby," I said to the little girl. "So you can make sure it's shut good."

She did as I said.

Another granddaughter, a teenage girl, came out and said "Thank you for the cookies. They were all pretty in the little tin, and they were so good."

"You're welcome, honey," I said.

And I was on my way. I even made it to my class 30 minutes early.

That night I wrote in my gratitude journal "I am thankful that I had the fortitude to help my neighbor today, even though I didn't want to help."

Yes, I am growing. It's like walking from Georgia to California. It's a slow long haul, but I am getting there.

One day I will arrive to the place I want to be.

Yes I will.

In My Hood...

Interesting things go on...

In my neighborhood.

Remember the house next door to me? This one?

So, I was pulling out the driveway one morning, on my way to work, when I see a fella walking up the street with a pair of blue slacks, a white shirt and red striped tie folded over his arm. He walks up to the front door, pretends to take a key out of his pocket and goes in the house.

*crickets*

Then he did it again the next day. And he even said good morning.

"Good Morning," he said. He waved.

"Wassup!" I said, with a head nod.

And I was looking a bit amazed and stunned... sort of like how Snake looks here.

I was in the street, backed out of my driveway, staring out my car window. I imagine I had an incredulous look on my face, sorta like Snake looks here.



LOL!!

I suppose the water is still on in that house. I thought about calling the water department and telling them to turn it off.

But that is something, the brother finding an abandoned house for a shower.

Or I assume he is taking a shower.

Where the heck is he getting a shirt, tie, and slacks from? Where is he going?

Hmmm...

*scribbling this down for a story idea*

I was thinking about asking him. But that's not a good idea.

I was thinking about going down the block, around the corner and asking a couple of folks.

That's not a good idea. My street is EXTREMELY quiet right now. They round up people from time to time, and it is not a good idea to get caught around the block and some mess go down. I don't want ya'll to have to come bail me out of jail. *screeches at the thought of such*

I haven't seen him in 2 weeks. I think he waits for me to leave in the mornings, then comes around. He seem to have a look of fear on his face when I saw him those times. Who knows.

He can do whatever he wants to do.

Just better not bother me, or my stuff.

That is all.

I Shine U Shine

So...

One thing about me: I hardly ever get my car washed.

You'll never see me out with a bucket and a sponge washing my car. Never.

I may go through one of those car washes at the gas station, something like that, but that's about it. And that there is asking a lot. Most likely a local will wash my car. They usually are trying to get their money together for their, uh, habit. So they don't mind giving a car a good bath.

And then there's The Mayor of my Hood and the House of LadyLee's official Poet Laureate, Snake.

He likes to stand in the middle of the street when he sees me coming, his arm stretched out, hand up, commanding me to stop like he the Police or something.

"Look at this here car of your's LadyLee. Oh Lawd." He shakes his head back and forth in disgust.

"This sucka running, babes. I don't care if it's dirty."

"You need to come on down the street and let me wash it."

"I'll holler at you," I yell as I pull away. And go home.

So I finally decided to go look for Snake and his car washing enterprise.

Actually, I was looking for Mr. Thomas, another local, because my grass was getting high and it needed to be cut. I left home on a sunny Saturday afternoon and went looking for Snake. He wasn't hard to find, as he has a sign on the street corner pointing towards his place of business.

The "I Shine U Shine" Car Wash.

Like I said, I was being nosy. I was looking for Mr. Thomas. Mr. Thomas had had a heart attack back in September. I saw him walking up the street a week later eating a package of oreo cookies.

I told him that uh, maybe he didn't want to eat those cookies if he had just had a heart attack. A nice piece of fruit may be better.

He nodded and kept right on eating them.

Long story short, I thought Mr. thomas was dead.

"Yo Snake! I yelled. "You seen Mr. Thomas!?"

Snake nodded yes. I breathed a sigh of relief.

The old man wasn't dead.

"He just got out of jail, LadyLee!" Snake said. "And there he is walking up the hill."

I saw the old man staggering up the hill. And he'd been in jail. That meant somebody probably stole ALL his equipment (all of which he had stolen himself(don't ask me how I know this... please)). Plus, he lives in a house behind this dude name "Rat Cheese" house. His equipment had to be long gone. Long gone.

So that meant I had to go buy a lawnmower. Sigh.

Anyway, I did that, and came back for my car wash.

Now when I've rolled by "I Shine U Shine" in the past, there have been always nice cars out there - Beamers, SUVs, Benzs. So I didn't want to take my plucker down there.

But that day I did.

I parked my car in front of this nice Beamer.

Incidently, there was some folks sitting over in the green SUV, talking. I made sure not to look in the car. My brother hipped me to the fact that this usually meant prostitute action going on. So I just ignore it.

And I was glad I did ignore it. Snake had walked up on them and hollered "Hey man, go home to your Old Lady. Let me get in the car and get some of that action!"

*crickets*

Well, well, well!!

Isn't that special!

Whatever. Get your freak on.

I just wanted my car washed.

And one of Snake's employees washed my car.



He used a plethora of products from the "I Shine U Shine" Counter.



I walked over and peered closely at this contraption, this interesting counter. It was made up of an old dresser and the top of a dining room table. Very nice use of old furniture indeed.

My car... it was looking mighty nice.

But not as nice as that Beamer. Lawd help me, it made me want to go out and buy one!



I walked across the street taking this all in, and taking pictures. One of Snake's employees directed me to do otherwise.

"Ma'am, you can have a seat in one of the chairs if you like."

So I went over to the waiting area.



That scenery... It was, I don't know... interesting to say the least. I wondered when and how the house burned up. Those box springs look a bit new. There was just a whole lot going on, and it kept me full of bewilderment while I waited on that car.

That barrel looked interesting.

By the crispy burnt smell invading my nostrils, I could tell they burned up stuff on a regular basis in that barrel.

Snake saw me staring at all of this. "I can use this in a story or something, man," I said.

"We 'bout to turn that into a drive thru car wash, LadyLee."

*blank stare*Blink*crickets*

Knowing him, I know they will... somehow.

A police car turned on the street. I got scared, tried to play it cool. I was gonna break out for my house on the next block if I had to. My keys were in the car, but I could call my sister to come over and let me in the house... just didn't wanna get locked up, man!

(yes, I think about these things. There were some VERY interesting locals walking around. I didn't want to get caught up in a round up.)

Snake adressed the white female cop.

"Hey Baby, you want yo car washed??"

"No," she said, her voice flat.

I let out a sigh of relief. And continued to relax in the waiting area.

Snake and his employee did a good job on my ride. I got the "hooptie" special price: $10.00

He even put a little tire shine on my tires.





My car looks like it can breathe now. So fresh and so clean!

I'll be going back soon.

Most likely when they get the drive-thru car wash operation up and going!

LOL