Apparently some nice young man and his buddy decided to try to break into my car on Friday night. We found this out yesterday from our next door neighbor who ended up scaring them off. Then the next night he caught them again two houses down trying to get into a van.
THEN this morning, there were police at the house across the street from us again. Keep in mind these are the nice folks that offered B marijuana about a week after we moved into the neighborhood and who we are convinced are dealing G-d knows what out of their house.
When we found out about my car, I half-jokingly (half-jokingly?) said that we should consider moving. Today I emailed our Realtor (cuz Jason rules!) and asked him how I can find out about the value of our house.
Add to that the nightmarish stains we are still trying to eradicate since we lost Frank, the voles in our backyard that Zoe has nearly caught a few times now, and the twice-daily serenade of what sounds like Mexican polka as our other neighbor announces his presence and exit of the neighborhood.
I can't even imagine trying to pack up and move right now. With everything going on with us and keeping the most strict budget we have ever had, the idea of adding the cost of a move to all that is just overwhelming. It feels like we JUST moved in! And I LOVE our house. The house itself rocks, it's perfect, it's just what we needed and we found it crazy fast (again, cuz Jason rocks!)
But I'm imagining B sitting on the porch with a shotgun all night waiting for the neighbors to come home. Maybe he's right, maybe we just need to find a nice cabin in the woods or something.