Today, surveyors from the company that had been hired to work on the lot split from 1998 came to show me where the survey posts are on the property. Watching them walk around, I realized belatedly that we could have found some of the markers ourselves with a metal detector (cash register sounds; this service will cost us close to $400). Anyway, now we know who owns what. The East-West property line runs through the large circular flowerbed near the driveway to the nextdoor neighbor’s double-wide; two-third of it is theirs. On the other hand, we do own the Shade Garden area, which I think is rather pretty with my birdbath in its middle.
While the tree hackers were back to cut down a tree next door, I cleaned up the remnants of the wisteria. A close examination revealed a lot of decay; parts of the vines are so rotten, they fall apart when touched, the wood feels moist and runny and is full of fine compost.
I also weeded part of the Rose Garden and the bare dirt areas South of the wisteria today.
At some point during the day, a lady appeared in the driveway next door and demanded to talk to the arborist. I realized that this must be the lady, who has been described to me as “crazy” by two different people.
My suspicions about the front next door neighbor were correct: this a person to be careful with. She saw me weeding the yard, and asked me if things had turned out "bigger than expected." I was a bit put off by the way she'd asked the question, since it suggested that I may be overwhelmed by the amount of yard work. I said that it was just the way we expected, I was just weeding the yard, nothing more. I overheard her describe the neighbor across the street as “crazy” to the arborist.
Looks like we bought into a pretty weird neighborhood.
Of course, when it came time to put the cable in the oak tree as agreed the day before, it turns out that rather than use a Cobra cable as agreed upon, Mr. Tree Guy tied the tree with a red-colored heavy-duty rope. I can’t believe the aggravations I’ve had with these people. I pointed out to him that this is not what we had discussed previously. He offered to give me a guarantee in writing that would be good “for the lifetime of the rope” (whatever that meant). I almost wanted to laugh at him.
We didn’t get the pile of wood chips we were promised, another reason to feel irritated.