There is a blemish upon the nose of Hillmomba. Like a wart on the dainty proboscis of a supermodel.
Take a gander at what the neighbors have been creating for two weeks now.
What say you? A blemish? Or modern art. Perhaps it's Upholstery-and-Fence Henge. Maybe they were toying with the Frank Lloyd Wright prairie style! Notice the long, sloping lines...the unfinished materials...the way it blends into its surroundings. Or not. When the rain poured down this morning, it could have been a replica of Wright's Fallingwater.
I'm not sure what the deal is here. They set out the couch last week, two days before trash pickup. Apparently, Waste Management does not pick up objects that you don't cram into your dumpster. The next addition was the fence. Maybe it was going to be a fortress for that killer poodle to lay in ambush. But then the trash bags appeared, taking up valuable poodle space.
Tomorrow is trash day. Surely they've called ahead and made arrangements to pay extra to have this eyesore removed. Right? Don't you think so? This is one fence that does not make a good neighbor.
I hope they don't plan on sneaking across the gravel road in dead of night, and shoving that mess down our sinkhole.
Even more importantly, I hope Farmer H doesn't run over there in the dead of night, rifle through their trash bags, and shove everything else down our sinkhole.