A Letter to our Neighbors

Dear Neighbors,


        Aside from waving in the mornings and evenings, and maybe a simple "hi" or "hello" from time to time, you don't really know us.  All you know is that we moved from Kansas and bought the house from Gladys, that lovely eighty plus year old lady who owned this house from the time it was built.  You may have even noticed that it sure took us plenty of time to license our cars in California and that we painted over that fecal brown paint and stripes back in May.  Knowing those things about us is enough.  We're fine with waving and a brief "hello."


      However, where we came from, shooting fireworks in town was illegal.  Then again, it's illegal here too.  Plus, add in the dry climate of Sacramento, the current drought, and the browning, dying grass, you'd think it's just common sense that fireworks aren't allowed.  I realize there are firework stands all throughout the suburbs, right within the city limits, something we never would have found in Kansas.  But that doesn't change the legalities, the drought, and most of all, the aversion my large Newfoundland has.  So you can only imagine how we felt as we had fireworks flying above our house for what felt like an eternity, coming from the sides, the front, and the back of our humble abode.


   
       Your fireworks were all lovely, I assure you.  And we should appreciate the display each of you set off for us, without having to leave our formerly striped home.  However, we were too preoccupied by the items bouncing off our roof, our dogs whining, the paper lanterns flying in the sky, and the fireworks shot directly over our house from every direction imaginable.  Our backyard grass is dead, so there was that slight concern of anything landing there.  We have house insurance, of course.  But neither one of us wants to use it.  I'm sure you understand.  Our houses are all fairly close together.  If ours is on fire, yours probably will be soon.



        So while we thought the random fireworks throughout the year were obnoxious enough, especially the ones on New Year's Eve, we weren't the biggest fans of such a spectacle.  So next year, while you continue to shoot off your fiery bombs, we'll be hiding in our house with the hose ready.  And we will probably do just as we did this year, hang out in the living room with the television loudly and assure our dogs that all will be right in the world eventually.  Because we know you won't suddenly follow the laws, and we won't stir any animosity with you by calling you out.  But just know, please know, that next year, we would love it if all of you offset your aim just a bit and went over another house.  Like the abandoned one next to us.



                                                                                                                       Sincerely,


                                                                                                                           The House with the Rocks