Autumn

Dear Neighbours,

I so enjoy living here amongst you, that I just wanted to give you your due in public. Thank you for never letting me forget that you drive this year's hottest car, while I drive a sensible second hand vehicle. Thank you for raising your eyebrows at the little garden I tend so carefully, while your yard is kept green and lush by a service.

Thank you for complaining about my barking dog, while your teenage children tear up and down the street in the cars you bought them, stereos blaring. Thank you for your kind suggestions that I prune my lilac tree, which was EXACTLY how I wanted it, in order to provide more sunlight for the shrub you just planted. Thank you for once again giving me all the details of the neighbourhood cocktail party to which we were not invited. Thank you for never letting me forget that I run a middle class household on an upper class street.

And most importantly? Thank you soooooooo much for not raking your leaves. I spent four hours outside today, picking up thirteen bags of leaves, even though MY tree has yet to release a single one. You see, I now know what you know: due to the wind currents -- and shape of my front yard -- all of YOUR leaves will eventually end up in MY yard. No no, there's no need for any of you to clean up your own mess. Just leave it there, would you? As the photo of our street shows, clearly you have taken my wise counsel: not ONE person on our street has done anything about their leaves, smug in the knowledge they will all end up in the Floresta's yard.

I have lived here four years, and up until today I have taken all of your shit with a smile and a grain of salt. But this afternoon, as I tied up yet another bag of leaves, and felt my lower back trembling from my prolonged hunched position, and watched you pull in to your driveways, literally taking the time to turn and look at me distastefully as if I was hired help instead of your neighbour, something in me snapped.

Actually, I take that back, that comment about hired help. I have HAD hired help in my home, and I never looked at those ladies the way you look at me. When I have outsiders in to help me with my housework, I look at them with thankfulness and appreciation. Maybe I'm just weird.

The kicker is I know that, if I don't rake YOUR leaves off my of lawn next week, you will all talk about us, discuss how unsuitable my family is for this street.

And you know what, dearest neighbours? I am OVER you. I don't want to fit in anymore, I have a wonderful family, a wonderful life, I don't need you. Maybe my family didn't pull in $350,000 last year, but you know what? We DID make enough to stay here, buwah ha ha, so you're stuck with us.

Bring it, bitches.