2 Hours After Sunset (and 10pm on weeknights)

It's true.  We Americans love to celebrate our independence day.  It's crazy how much we spend here in the United States for our fireworks.  $600 million!!!  {{source}}

As a kid I loved going to fireworks shows and I loved it even more when my parents let us make "air designs" with sparklers.  I'd write my name and make squiggly twirls and all sorts of amazing things in 20 short seconds.

We never really bought much more than sparklers, as my parents preferred popping our own popcorn and finding a free fireworks show to attend rather than spending the month's budget on light-em-yourself firecrackers.  I admit as I became a parent, I felt a childish giddiness take over me when I bought my first fireworks to light at home.  Putting on your own little show in the driveway can be fun and let's face it, it's nice to NOT have to get to a park hours in advance to save a prime fireworks viewing spot and then wait forever in traffic to get home.  So, I don't blame many for wanting to have their own fireworks at home.  

The problem is, we're not talking sparklers here folks, or just on the 4th.  Many will shoot off fireworks several nights throughout the month.  Aerials, poppers, squealers, all of it.  And things in the night are ALWAYS louder than during the day.  And they especially seem louder when the neighbors are shooting them off at midnight in the middle of the week and your own littles can't sleep because of the noise and you yourself have to get up in 5 hours to get to work.  

My message?  Be Considerate.

So, what's the rule regarding fireworks?  Well, that is up to each city's ordinances, and they do vary, by the way.  Some have no rule, while others say nothing past curfew (10pm).  Many city ordinances allow fireworks for up to 2 hours after sunset.  (Which is typically what - 8:30, 9 pm?)

But just because that is what's allowed, doesn't mean it's POLITE or appropriate.  Proper fireworks etiquette would be this:

No shooting off fireworks 2 hours after sunset, and not after 10pm on weeknights.

Seriously.  I've had littles with bed times MUCH earlier than 10pm.  And while much of the nation is on summer break from school, many of the districts I've lived in are on a year-round schedule.  Not to mention, just because it's summer break doesn't mean every parent in your neighborhood is letting their littles stay up.

So, be considerate.  Pay attention to sunset and don't shoot fireworks off 2 hours after that, or after 10pm on weeknights.  Sure, you might think your neighbors do not care, since they haven't ever mentioned it before.  But I guarantee, unless they are right outside shooting them off with you, you are making SOMEONE in the neighborhood ticked off.   Honestly, it's plain rude. 

I've lived in neighborhoods before where one or two households would light off fireworks until well past midnight.  And as much as I liked my neighbors, it really irritated me of their lack of sensitivity to the others that lived on the block.  Did I ever ask them not to?  Did I ever call the police?  No...  turns out I'm much too passive-aggressive for that.  I really hate confrontations.  :)

So, unless you live in the middle of nowhere, without a neighbor in sight for miles, be polite.  

Don't shoot your fireworks off 2 hours after sunset or after 10p on weeknights.

Who Needs Utopia When You've Got This?

I am already crying just THINKING about writing this post. Lame. I know.

Have I told you that I have some of the bestest neighbors in the whole wide world? I am sure I have. But just in case you missed it, I do. I really do have great neighbors.

I have a neighbor that mows his immaculate, luscious green lawn each week. And while he's at it, he rides on over and gives mine a quickie too! (The lawn, you pervs!) Anyway, maybe he does it because he knows that I am just too busy and exhausted with work, kids, school, and other mischievous fun that I probably won't get around to it in time to keep from bringing the neighborhood down. Maybe. Or maybe it's because he is just a super nice guy and really cares about me. Yep. I'm goin with that one. My mower died a few years ago. We borrowed another neighbor's mower the last 2 summers. And if/when I went out to mow, people would say, "You should not be mowing. You have boys for that!" And they did mow. But, I am not home all of the time to make sure they do it. And now, this summer, my kids are usually at their dad's every Saturday. So, thanks to my super-great neighbor across the street, my front lawn has been looking decent this whole season so far! Oh - and I finally acquired a mower. And my boys have been doing the back yard to keep it from looking like the the deep jungle. But we have this horrendous tree. And any time the wind blows even just a little, it poos sticks and leaves EVERYWHERE! Little Duckling has seriously already filled at least 5 bags full of sticks. But we cannot keep up. It stops my grass from growing nice and no one ever plays out there, because there would be serious injury. So, when the boys are home, and I am home at the same time to monitor their chore-doing, then the sticks get cleared and the weeds get mowed. And my neighbor could be the kind to sit in his house and complain that he has to look across the street at the pile of dump that I live in, and the yard that's goin to pot. He really could. But, he doesn't. He selflessly comes over and just mows.

I Heart Marshmallows. I really do. I love roasted marshmallows. Gooey marshmallows. Marshmallow Cake Frosting, Marshmallows in Cereal. Marshmallow Rice Krisy treats. Even slightly stale marshmallows covered in sugar crystals... hmmm... Peeps. I don't even need S'Mores. I just love the roasted marshmallow part. We were lucky enough to get a small firepit for the backyard Jungle w/Crooked and Cracked Cement plan. We have our camp chairs out there and the kids and I have made S'mores and roasted marshmallows at least a dozen times in the six weeks we've had it. It's great for family fun. The bad thing is, the wind blows. And in addition to causing more branch-poo, the smoke blows right into our neighbor's window and gets sucked in by they evap cooler. So, PartyGirl and her fam get the pleasure of inhaling our campfire... probably equivalent to sucking on an exhaust. I am sure they'd rather NOT smell it. But they have never complained to me. They still smile and wave as they go in and out of their house. They've also come over to roast marshmallows with us and enjoy homemade rootbeer on occasion too! They could call me up and complain. Seriously, they could. I mean, if they wanted to live in a campground, they would've stayed at the KOA, right? But, they don't complain. They understand my quirks and my passion for marshmallows and love me just the same. They will check in on me and see how I am doing. PartyGirl and I have the best conversations ever! And we get to partner up to visit ladies from the church too! We've had many a laugh and many a cry together! The fence is not the divide that keeps us apart. In fact, just yesterday I was thinking, we really oughta just put a gate door between us. It would make coming over that much easier! hahaha!

I've called my other neighbor's husband (Desperate Housewife) for help on occasion. Desperate Housewife doesn't mind either. I mean, she knows me well enough to know my genuine intentions... Not to mention he's the best darn mechanic around - and honest to boot! She is great too! Late night talks, vents, cries, and laughter. The husband could complain I am over too much. She could complain I talk too much. But they don't! They indulge me. They help me and they are there for me. They get my mail when I'm gone, call me when suspicious activity takes place when I am not home. I have borrowed things from them (by the way, I still have your rake!), "shopped" in their food storage when I was out of something, offered prayers and blessings on my behalf, even. She shares things with me when she has "too much". She's been my back-up during our late-night stalking BigTruckGuy Excursions and there's been the late-night drive-thru rendezvous too!

LawnMower Man, Desperate Housewife and PartyGirl are my immediate neighbors that look out for me and I know that they truly care. And there are other neighbors too. Around the corner. Down the street. Around the block. All of them are great! My neighbors have helped me in a pinch. They've watched my kids, picked up or dropped off my kids. Helped me finish projects. Given me things they knew I could use that they didn't need anymore. They've invited the kids and I over for family game nights or dinner. Or we've had girl's nights to just sit and gab and stuff our faces! Then there are the "mysterious" things that happen, that I know are because of a neighbor. Groceries left on my front porch. Gifts cards left in unsigned envelopes. Gas Cards. A Gallon of milk. Clothes for the kids. I could go on and on. In the beginning, it was hard for me to accept any type of help. I knew divorce wouldn't be easy. I knew that I didn't have a lot, but I knew for my kids' sake, I had to make it. But now I know that part of "making it", physically, mentally, emotionally, includes the love and service of others. I try to give back when I can. It's never as much as I want and it probably never will be.

I guess the thing that spurred this post this morning, is because I was thinking about one day if I would ever move. This would be a hard place to leave. Not the house; it's a dump. Not the yard; it's an eyesore. But it's the people. I can literally take a walk throughout the 4 or 5 streets in the neighborhood and I know who lives in almost every house. I wave and smile, and they wave and smile in return. I care about them. They care about me. It's a rarity to live in a place like this. Maybe not here it is, maybe not to these people. But I've lived in lots of towns, cities and states. This is a rarity indeed. A Utopia of sorts.

Only Ten Dollars

Recently I received a check from the school. It was additional funds that were above and beyond the cost of my tuition and books for the semester. I am not rich. Not even close. So this little bit of extra money was appreciated. I decided that I would use a **little** bit of it to get my kids each something for their birthdays this year, and the rest I would use towards bills.

I decided to get them all three the same thing, and that I would get the gifts now and then hide them away until their birthdays (January, March and June). So, the other day I stopped in at SuperTarget and grabbed the said items. I was sort of in a hurry. And when I know **exactly** what I want, I mean it when I say, "I'm just gonna run in, grab this and run out."

Anyway, because I am in a hurry, I pick the shortest line. 2 people in front of me. The cashier was just finished ringing up this gentleman's order and proceeded to tell him the grand total. He is having a hard time understanding her English and she cannot speak Spanish. The cashier had already loaded his bags into his cart, and they were packed full of groceries. I am not sure how many mouths he has to feed, but my guess is a lot. The cashier is explaining to the man he doesn't have enough money. He is not understanding. She is pointing to the digital display, trying to explain once again that the amount of cash he had given her was not enough.

My first thought was, "Oh great! And I thought this was the SHORT line!" But then, I glimpsed my attitude in the face of the woman in front of me. She let out not one, not two, but THREE heavy sighs, adding a major eye-roll, which she turned and displayed for the rest of us as if to say, "Can you believe this???", and topping it all off with her hands-on-hips-I-am-too-important-to-have-to-stand-here-and-witness-this move. The lady behind me jumped on that ship and added two loud heavy sighs of her own, along with a rhythmic tapping of her undoubtedly, name-brand stilettos.

I realized that my being irritated was not going to help. I also realized that my initial feeling of exasperation was just about as ridiculous as the looks on these two ladies faces. At this point, the cashier decides that since he doesn't understand English, perhaps she could speak LOUDER, cuz that might just help. As she is explaining that he is about ten dollars short, he is digging in his pockets. The thought occurs to me that he doesn't even realize he is short. I think that he thought she was asking if he had the exact change. Like, if you have two pennies, etc. He digs in his pockets and turns them out empty. She then says, again VERRRRRY LOUDLY and now EXTREMELY SLOWLY, "YOU...DON'T...HAVE...ENOUGH...MONEY!" The man shakes his head "no". Again, I do not think he even understood.

Cereal. Spaghetti noodles. Oranges. Target brand diapers. Ground beef. Bell peppers. These were the items I could see peeking from some of his grocery bags.

Tap. Tap. Tap. The woman behind me clicked her shoes a little more loudly; each tap growing with intensity. The woman in front of me begins to look like a defective bobble-head; the constant shaking of her head from side-to-side. I could practically hear the clucking of her tongue.

Ten Dollars. He was short ten dollars. I had ten dollars cash, in my wallet. It wouldn't take away from **my** budget to give him the ten dollars. After all, this was *extra* money. Could I find a use for the ten dollars? Sure I could. Like I said, I am not rich.

However, just because I have never stood in a line at the grocery store as time stood still and glared at me for not having enough cash, doesn't mean I haven't ever stressed over being able to feed my family. I stress about it. All.The.Time. In fact, over the last two years, I have spent many a countless nights stressing over how I would pay this bill or that bill, or what I could make for dinner the next three nights with the few cans left in my cupboard. I cannot tell you all of the times I have felt like I could not handle just One.More.Thing. And it has been in times like these wherein somebody will have put an envelope of money in my mailbox, or a 20 dollar bill will have turned up in my old jacket, or someone else has brought me dinner or groceries, or let me "borrow" a can of diced tomatoes, a tub of cool whip or even a bag of chocolate chips. I cannot tell you the times I have come home to find my lawn magically mowed or my leaves mysteriously raked or my weeds pulled or my sidewalks and driveway cleared of snow. I am one person. How could I possibly "pay" each of these people back? Especially the anonymous ones...

Nonetheless, this man needed help. Right Now. He didn't have time to go home and see if per chance there was a ten dollar bill in an old coat. It was my chance to pay it forward. And the other thing too, I told myself, I KNOW where this money is going. He is using it to feed and care for his family. He isn't buying drugs or alcohol with it. He isn't gambling with it.

In reality, only about two minutes had passed. And yet, everything seemed slowed; the ticking of the clock filling the space of time, and the sighing and the tapping continued, each echoing a bit more.

"I've got it," I said, my own voice almost unrecognizable to me. I don't know why, but I was shaking as I reached my hand in my purse and fumbled to release the clasp of my wallet. The cashier and the two women gasped, almost in unison. The woman behind me looked at me with shock; the woman in front of me with disgust, and the cashier with disbelief. "I've got it," I said again, reaching out and handing the ten dollar bill to the cashier. I mean it was TEN DOLLARS! And it wasn't really even *my* money, really. I mean, it was given to me, but still.

I didn't like the looks on the women's faces and I decided that I didn't want others to see that in me. Instead I wanted someone to be able to look at me and see His image in my countenance. I wanted to be able to feel good about **finally** being able to help someone. Anyone. All of a sudden, ten dollars didn't seem like so much. I mean, really, with everything I have been given, and especially through the kind acts of others, it was **only** ten dollars. How could I NOT offer?

Isn't this what I want anyway? I asked myself. When I pray, often times I tell the Lord that I will be an instrument in his hands and that if there is anyone who could benefit from any service or deed that I could do, that I might be made aware of it. How do I NOT know that this may have been my chance to be *that* instrument. What if I would have ignored the prompting to help? What blessings or other opportunities might I have missed out on?

I know that some people would call me foolish or wasteful; saying that it wasn't *my* responsibility to help this man out, that he should have planned ahead a little better, or known his circumstance a little more. They may say that I wasted that money on someone else's family, when I could have used it for my own. I mean, that's about 4 gallons of milk right there.

I was still shaking by the time I got up to pay for my own three simple items. The cashier thanked me for doing what I did. I didn't really say much. I think my head was still thinking about all of this, in terms of my relationship with God. Then the cashier went on to say, "This is not the first time this has happened. He has come through my line before, and he has come up short before. It is sooo frustrating. Usually, I have to find someone who speaks Spanish to tell him to put something back."

I sort of gave her a half-nod as I took my receipt and goods and walked out to the car. I opened the door, sat in my front seat and began to sob like a baby. Not because I regretted giving up the Ten Dollars. Not because I felt like a do-gooder, though I did feel good about helping. But I was moved because this thought hit me:

How many times in my life have I come up short? How many times have I taken my case to the Lord in spite of feeling inadequate or unworthy to receive His blessings? And God doesn't say, "Again? This isn't the first time this has happened; you've come down this road before. This is so frustrating." God doesn't call the Savior in and ask Him to explain to us why we can't have what we just might so desperately need at that moment. He doesn't scold us, telling we should have planned a little better or known our circumstance more. No. The Savior paid the price for us. We are saved by His grace, after all we can do.

I am by no means trying to say that I think I was this guy's savior. But it hit me that this man gave all he had and was in need of someone to come to his mercy. Justice meant the items would have to be paid for. But Mercy meant that someone else could step in and pay the remaining debt, after all he could do.

I cried because at that moment it solidified for me, in my heart, how much my Heavenly Father truly does love me and that because He loves me He sent His son. And not only did He do that, but he continues to bless me through "Angels among us" who step in from time to time to bring me that bag of chocolate chips or shovel my walk. And sometimes-- sometimes He lets me know He loves me by letting ME have to opportunity to pay it forward.

Truly, it was only Ten Dollars.

Five Types of Neighbors: Which One Are YOU?

I read an article lately - 5 Types of Neighbors and How To Handle Them - which said that there are Five Types of Neighbors. Interesting. I skimmed down to the bullet points and knew immediately where I fell, even before reading it. You can click on each one and read a full description, but I'll give you the gist of them here.

My first instinct was that I am "Type 1: The Home Devaluers". Read on...

Type 1: The Home Devaluers
Type 2: The Dangerous Neighbor
Type 3: The Richer Than You Are Neighbor
Type 4: The Wacky Neighbor
Type 5: The Difficult Neighbor

Type 1: The Home Devaluers
Who they are: They're friendly enough. They just never seem to mow their lawn more than once or twice a year...
How to handle them: Communicate, communicate, communicate...
Jodi R. R. Smith, author and etiquette consultant, knew a group of neighbors who were upset that a house on their block wasn't taking care of the lawn. The neighbors assigned a delegate to knock on the door to discuss the yard, and when the owner came out of the house and the problem was explained, she broke into tears. It had turned out that she was in the midst of a divorce and an aggressive chemo treatment. The neighbors then organized a rotating schedule of lawn care for the ill neighbor. "Things are not always what they seem," says Smith.

ME: Yes... I am definitely Type 1. Not that I have chemo treatments... but when something's gotta give, it's usually the lawn.


Type 2: The Dangerous Neighbor
Who they are: Sad but true, some neighbors are not worth getting to know well -- but it's still good to know something about their dislikes and boundaries, so you don't cross them. In 2006, for instance, headlines were made when Charles Martin, an elderly man living in a suburb of Cincinnati, Ohio, shot a 15-year-old boy to death because he had apparently made the error of walking across his meticulously manicured lawn.
How to handle them: You can't consume yourself with worry looking for red flags in your neighbors. However, if you're aware of them, it may help you from igniting their fury. And if you have young kids, you really should look at www.familywatchdog.us, the Web site for the National Sex Offender Registry.

ME: I check the registry myself every now and again... and I feel secure in that I know practically everyone in the neighborhood. I feel pretty safe here.


Type 3: The Richer Than You Are Neighbor
Who they are: These are the Joneses who you try to keep up with, valiantly, but can't. They're always getting a new addition onto their home. They have the perfect blades of grass...They have the new Maserati parked in the driveway. And...what's so maddening is...you can't walk up to their front door and say, "Excuse me, but you're being too rich."
How to handle them: "The best you can do is learn to cope," suggests Saralee Rosenberg, author of Dear Neighbor, Drop Dead (HarperCollins, July 2008). "Every family is dysfunctional to some degree, and that just because a lawn is beautifully maintained and a house is immaculate, doesn't mean that trouble isn't brewing. Not that you'd wish that on someone, but if you find yourself envious, it's important to remember that you probably don't know the whole story."

ME: I know plenty of my neighbors who are richer than me... I wouldn't even begin to try to keep up. But also, I know them well-enough to know they are not trying to show off. They just like nice things, and good for them if they can afford it.


Type 4: The Wacky Neighbor
Who they are: They're the folks who barge into your living room and convince you to invest in their new ferret farm, and suddenly, before thirty minutes is up, you've been fired after getting into a raucous pie fight in the employee lunchroom.
How to handle them: Wait, sorry -- that only happens on TV. If a neighbor actually pulls a Kramer and barges into your living room and then starts to raid your refrigerator, feel free to call the police and press charges.

ME: Seriously... I have a wacky neighbor or two... Though, after reading this, I *guess* I could also understand if anyone thought *I* was the wacky one... 'nuff said.


Type 5: The Difficult Neighbor
Who they are: Who aren't they? They're the aforementioned neighbors as well as anyone who makes your life more complicated than it needs to be.
How to handle them: Keep a good rapport. A small amount of physical contact goes a long ways with neighbors. I notice who keeps to themselves and it comes off as being unfriendly. These days, there aren't many chances of making impressions with your neighbors, so a simple wave or hello can represent you well. Often we have an issue with a neighbor we don't know, and so we hate their guts, and we don't even know their name. And if you don't say something to your neighbor, why should they stop doing whatever they're doing? If you do talk, a solution may just be forthcoming. After all, Most people don't want to be that neighbor.

ME: Yeah, I guess most neighborhoods have these. I can think of a few... My guess is that it is mostly a difference of opinion, personalities and communication styles.


So-- Which neighbor are you? And what happened to "Type 6: The NORMAL Neighbor"??? Is there even such a thing? Perhaps the ones that are most like you, and with whom you get along best are whom you'd consider "normal". I know I do...

Dear Village, Thanks!

Normally, I might be somewhat of a Quirky Turkey. But lately, I have felt more like a Jerky Turkey. I have lots to be grateful for. I have had good intentions of thanking many people who have offered service, said a kind word, dropped off a favorite treat, or was there to help in a pinch, expecting nothing in return.
However, I'm afraid that I have just not gotten around to it yet. Does anyone out there seem to have an extra one of these that I can have? Perhaps it will help.







Sorry - I digress. Back to the post at hand. I would like to dedicate this post to ALL of those who have been "Angels Among Us", more specifically to me!

I Am Grateful for...

• The neighbor who came to my front door last January with cash in-hand telling me that she didn't know why, but that she was prompted I needed this money and that I was not to pay her back.


• The neighbor who volunteered to help me with the church activities committee, since EVERYONE else bailed. (gee! was it something I said?)


• The neighbor that brought me candy cuz she knew it was my favorite. Or gave me her last 2 eggs cuz my kids wanted me to bake brownies. Or dropped off milk because she knew I only had $2 till payday. Or let me borrow supplies so I can make Christmas gifts. For emailing me and checking in on me regularly.


• The Neighbor that stopped me at church because she wanted me to know that I had a positive impact on her daughter, and told me she thinks I am a beautiful person. How did she know that I needed to hear that on that particular day?


• The Neighbor that brought me a little note with a treat to tell me she missed me when I wasn't at church and for making sure that my kids will be set for the upcoming Christmas holiday.


• The Neighbor (and his daughter) who have done - on multiple occasions - outside work for me without being asked, starting all the way back in January. Plowed my drive. Mowed my lawn. Blew my leaves. Trimmed hideous branches off the "Beast" tree. Cleaned out gutters. Winterized my swamp cooler. Watched/Watches over me/my house in case my very own personal episode of "Cops" happens (again).


• The Neighbor who ALWAYS comes through for me. Lets me talk her ear off when I need to share news. Gives me advice. Lets me vent. Picks up my kid from a school that's not even in our neighborhood because I forgot it's early-out week. Takes my sick kids in so I don't have to miss work. Takes my kid to the pool or the water park or amusement park or the zoo or the boutique because - "Why not?". Teaches me how to buy cereal for 20 cents a box. Watches over my house and alerts me to things that occur when I am not there. Forgives me when I am a total boob and say things I shouldn't. Invites me in to eat dinner with them when I show up at the door for something totally unrelated. Lets me "shop" in her food storage when I am out of something. Laughs AT and WITH me when I am being totally stupid. Goes shopping with me to Wal-Mart in the middle of the night to make sure I will be "safe". Tells the waitress when MY order isn't correct because I still have serious non-confrontational issues. For being like the sisters I miss, for "getting me".

And so many more, I am afraid I am forgetting someone here.

Rhondalue reminded me over at her blog that "it takes a village". My "village" is filled with these kinds of neighbors, for who I am eternally grateful. They are MORE than neighbors. They are my friends.

There are times, when these random acts of kindness occur, that I feel needy or incapable of providing or doing for myself. Sometimes my pride gets in the way and it hurts or I am embarrassed or ashamed that I need this much help. But mostly I know that these neighbors, these friends help me because they are following a prompting or because they love and care about me. I also know that it is my Heavenly Father's way of teaching me that sometimes I have to be on the receiving end and that I am not alone.

When my divorce happened almost a year ago, I felt like I stepped off the curb into a very chaotic and fast-paced traffic pattern, going the wrong way down a one-way street. I still feel that way. Some days I think to myself, "What the heck am I doing?" or "What kind of mother am I?" I feel like I am grasping for something, anything that represents normalcy. (Another reason I blog.) I know that my Heavenly Father knows me or He would not have sent me these people to help take care of me.

So, much thanks to ALL of my friends, my family, and my neighbors; My Village for taking care of me and "Raising" me. I know in my heart I will NEVER be able to repay any of you for any of the kind things you do or have done for me. But I definitely do not want you to think these things have gone unnoticed or unappreciated. I know that one day, when I am in a better place, I will be the one who will be able to help out someone else; to pay it forward.

I only hope it will be enough.