Not All Sunshine and Light

It occurs to me that if I don't tell you about the things that get me down, you will think that, with what I put into these blogs, I'm "over-egging the pudding" as they say over here, making things sound better than they are. The fact is, there is one discordant note around here. It involves our new neighbour. I'm sure she's a perfectly nice lady but things haven't gone all that well between us.

So imagine a genteel and only slightly southern-accented woman's voice saying: "I was 65 the summer Miss Rebecca Clark came to live in our neighborhood. She arrived on a hot day in early June in a little beat-up car with two snarly dogs, a matched set of something pedigreed but utterly unpleasant." I may have changed her name (and the condition of her car) but the following facts are as they happened.

On the day we met her, Don and I were in our driveway because we were expecting a delivery van to drop off the missing rooftiles that were holding up the finishing of our roofing work and thought we had heard an engine idling out front. It was Miss Rebecca Clark's car, stopped in the middle of our road. She left the motor running and came up to us to say "I'm your new neighbour. I'll be moving in tomorrow." I think we said hello and maybe even something like "Welcome to the neighbourhood" and that was the last thing we had a chance to say. We heard all about how she didn't want to move but her financial situation forced her into it, about how badly our previous neighbours had maintained their home and garden (a fact we know is not true for they were always doing something to it), how the surveyor hadn't done what he was supposed to because there were all kinds of problems he hadn't noted on his inspection report, and so forth and so on. (She is one of those talkers who never stops to suck wind.)

She has never asked us where we came from, or when, or why. Nor has she ever remarked on our renovation, which was well under way when she moved in, such as what were we doing, how long would it go on, and so forth. Nor has she commented on the fact that it is finished (although total strangers walking by on the road have done all of these things). Miss Rebecca Clark appears to be one of those folks who has no interest or curiosity in anyone around her but is wholly consumed with her own issues, especially complaints.

She moved from elsewhere in Comrie and others who knew her began mentioning her impending move to me a full month before she moved in. They were very polite and never said anything untoward, but there was just the slightest sour odor in the air that this might not be an altogether positive situation. After we had met her, I mentioned it to one of these folks who suggested, with knowingly arched eyebrows, that perhaps my neighbourly approach should be "cordial but not inviting". Uh-oh.

Aside from her greatly detailed monologues about what abominable condition her house is in, the few conversations we have had involved areas where our plants hang over into her property. For example, one day I went outside to find her clipping my Clematis tangutica where it rambles over onto her side of our fence, saying it was "scratching" her car. Anyone who knows Clematis leaves, especially in earliest summer, knows they couldn't scratch anything. She said "I hope you don't mind but..." I replied I didn't mind and added that, in fact, some of the shoots of that plant were unruly and I needed to tie them down to the fence. Then I noticed a shrub growing on our side of our fence the leaves of which needed to be trimmed back on her side. The man she bought the house from always kept this trimmed on his side but it is our responsibility so I told her I'd also trim that. She went back in the house while I tied down the Clematis and then got out the tarp, ladder, and electric hedge trimmers and trimmed back the shrub on both sides. About an hour later, just as I was finishing the clean-up on her side, she came out again, laughing slightly and saying "Oh, I would have cleaned that up!" Under my breath I muttered "Well why didn't you say so when you were saying everything else?"

She has never remembered our names, so when she wants our attention, she warbles "Wooo-hoooo!" One day when she did this she told Don she was hiring someone to prune our cherry tree where branches overhang her garden. She told Don if we wished, we could talk with the fellow who was doing the work for her and he'd prune on our side while he was at it. Don told her he was okay with her having it pruned on her side but we weren't interested at this time in having our side pruned because we have someone else who does that work for us. I tell you this story so you can see why we might have been led to expect that all issues involving areas where our two gardens intersect might be discussed prior to action being taken. Not so.

While Ruthellen and Russell were here on that rainy Tuesday when we stayed in and did laundry, the chain saws were going all day in Miss Rebecca Clark's garden. I never saw what was happening until it was all done. She had all the tall conifers cut down that had been just on the other side of our fence in the very back of our garden. Of course these were her plants and she had every right to have them removed, but the result is that now there is nothing that rises above our 4-foot high fence. What once was a secluded little back garden where I'd have coffee on cool autumn and spring mornings is now wide open not only to view from her house and garden but to her next door neighbour's house and garden as well. Further, anything I hang on my clothesline can be seen by her and the man next to her.

This came as a great shock and the suddenness and surprise of it upset me greatly. The privacy of our garden all the way around has always been one of the best (and most remarked-upon) features of our property. Even though she had every right to have done what she did, she could at least have warned us. I immediately began saying that we had to erect trellises, bamboo screens--anything to get our privacy back. Don, however, was in favor of doing it right the first time and erecting a 6' fence. The thing is, trellises and bamboo screens are instant; fences are not.

As if this werent enough, a week later, after Ruthellen and Russell had left, I was in the guest room making the guest bed back into a futon sofa when I looked out the back window and saw plant matter in my little back garden that I didn't recognize. When I went out there, I discovered that she had cut off our plants that had been trailing up some of the shrubs she cut down and that she had thrown what she cut off back into our garden for us to clean up. I was insensed. I am afraid I must admit I simply flung them back into her garden. My feeling was that if she wants to cut back my plants, she can jolly well dispose of the debris! (She apparently did that because they didn't reappear on our side.)

But wait, there's more. I discovered a few days later that all of the branches, twigs, and sticks that had been pruned from a shrub under our cherry tree the day after the conifers had been cut down, had been thrown back over the fence onto our side and were piled up under the shrub. The pile comes up to about 3 feet. Further, because of other shrubs and the cherry tree, we can't even get back to the pile of rubbish to clear it out.

I have discussed the situation with many locals who say that yes, she is entitled to trim anything of ours that is growing onto or overhanging her property and that, in theory, she is also entitled ask us to clean up the debris, but that in practice, people clean up what they trim in their own gardens regardless of where it originated. They certainly wouldn't put it back over their neighbours' fence to be cleaned up unless that had been arranged between themselves and their neighbours beforehand. They all felt it was quite cheeky of Miss Rebecca Clark to do such a thing. One woman expressed shock that a neighbour would do such a thing.

So now we are on a mission to get that fence up as soon as possible. To that end, on Wednesday afternoon we drove to Glencarse (just past Perth) to look at fencing. We found what we like but that company doesn't do the installation. They gave us the name of someone in our area who does, and we have been in touch with him. He is very busy and is going to be away on holiday during the time we'll be in Cognac, but will be in contact when he gets back.

Until the fence gets erected, I only go back there when I know she's not at home. All my gardening will be concentrated on the front. I no longer hang clothes on the line. And we avoid having anything to do with Miss Rebecca Clark at all costs. Don said it best when he referred to the old American adage: Good fences make good neighbours from a poem by Robert Frost.

And that's the story of Miss Rebecca Clark and the Garden Calumnies. I sincerely hope you never hear another word about her.