CAUGHT!
Monday was not a good day for me.
I get home and shortly thereafter, the cops show up. I walk out, greet them warmly, and they hand me a Notice about my lawn. Now, here's the deal. Earlier in the summer, I had already recieved a notice about my lawn. And I had been making a concerted effort to keep my Jungle of a yard in order. And now I was getting a Second Notice that was being given to me by a couple of cops?! Wha? So, I ask the cops about it, what I need to do to be in compliance. The cops don't know. Hell, they really don't seem to care. They're just delivering this stupid notice that they don't really give a crap about. So, they leave, and I spend the next few hours getting pissed off and feeling like someone (or group) in Clay City is out to get me.
Then at seven, I get a call from Brooks. He tells me that Pro Wrestler Chris Benoit is dead. I don't wanna talk about the details about Benoit's death. Not here, not now. As far as his life went, he was the best technical wrestler in wrestling history, and one of the most consistantly entertaining performers to ever step foot in a wrestling ring. I watched his career retrospective on RAW (first time I've watched Raw in, like, years...) and went from being pissed about my yard to depressed about this...whatever it is.
I couldn't sleep that night. Finally passed out on the couch at 2am.
The next day my cousin Rachel and I went down to the Village of Clay City office to deal with this Notice problem. Rachel was there to insure I didn't do anything stupid. The lady at the Office had no clue what was going on. She gave the number of the lady who's in charge of the COMMITTEE in charge of the notices.
So, after a phone call and a personal visit, here's how it breaks down. A year or two ago, some old ladies in town formed some mysterious committee to beautify the village of Clay City. Although I don't recall voting for these people, they are apparently connected to the village, and have the ability to send these annoying little notices, and presumably level fines. What they do is they travel around town looking at houses, and if they see a house that doesn't fit their committee standards, then it's letter time.
What this means for me, is that it's not just about mowing and weed eating now. I've pretty much gotta take care of my yard, gardener style. And then hope that my standards meet the vague committee standards. Huzzah!
For the first time in my life, I can't wait for winter.
I get home and shortly thereafter, the cops show up. I walk out, greet them warmly, and they hand me a Notice about my lawn. Now, here's the deal. Earlier in the summer, I had already recieved a notice about my lawn. And I had been making a concerted effort to keep my Jungle of a yard in order. And now I was getting a Second Notice that was being given to me by a couple of cops?! Wha? So, I ask the cops about it, what I need to do to be in compliance. The cops don't know. Hell, they really don't seem to care. They're just delivering this stupid notice that they don't really give a crap about. So, they leave, and I spend the next few hours getting pissed off and feeling like someone (or group) in Clay City is out to get me.
Then at seven, I get a call from Brooks. He tells me that Pro Wrestler Chris Benoit is dead. I don't wanna talk about the details about Benoit's death. Not here, not now. As far as his life went, he was the best technical wrestler in wrestling history, and one of the most consistantly entertaining performers to ever step foot in a wrestling ring. I watched his career retrospective on RAW (first time I've watched Raw in, like, years...) and went from being pissed about my yard to depressed about this...whatever it is.
I couldn't sleep that night. Finally passed out on the couch at 2am.
The next day my cousin Rachel and I went down to the Village of Clay City office to deal with this Notice problem. Rachel was there to insure I didn't do anything stupid. The lady at the Office had no clue what was going on. She gave the number of the lady who's in charge of the COMMITTEE in charge of the notices.
So, after a phone call and a personal visit, here's how it breaks down. A year or two ago, some old ladies in town formed some mysterious committee to beautify the village of Clay City. Although I don't recall voting for these people, they are apparently connected to the village, and have the ability to send these annoying little notices, and presumably level fines. What they do is they travel around town looking at houses, and if they see a house that doesn't fit their committee standards, then it's letter time.
What this means for me, is that it's not just about mowing and weed eating now. I've pretty much gotta take care of my yard, gardener style. And then hope that my standards meet the vague committee standards. Huzzah!
For the first time in my life, I can't wait for winter.
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