backyard · kitchen

A Canister Story

(In the form of a letter to our dear neighbours)

Dear Neighbours in the apartment buildings behind us,

I’ll admit, we didn’t start off on a great foot. When we first moved in, I wasn’t very happy about all the garbage you had thrown in the backyard over the year in which our house was vacant. The old toilet seats and sleeping bags were especially disgusting. But we cut you a little slack. After all, our house had been vacant. Perhaps you were acting out against the previous owner’s neglect? We cleaned up your mess and moved on.

But then, when you didn’t stop throwing your garbage, I got a little more perturbed. I’ll admit, we let our backyard get a little wild, especially the last 5 feet or so. We liked the wild flowers, while you saw them as a great place to hide your watermelon rinds, yoga mats, and picture frames you didn’t want anymore. I could handle most of it, but the broken glass? That went a little far.

We thought that you’d be done once we cleared away all the weeds. We worked hard to turn the soil back there. We lined it with a little fence and mulched the ground. We’re planning a garden for that space in the summer. And yet… you didn’t stop! Still, bags of compost somehow ended up in the middle of our muddy garden. Our dog is grateful: she especially loves the chicken bones. Did you know that dogs can choke very easily on chicken bones? The bones splinter and get caught in their throat.

True, besides cleaning up and taking care of our back yard, we haven’t done much to act against you. Twitter friends have encouraged us to call the police. I know I should at least call the city on you. But how are we supposed to know from which window you’re throwing the garbage? We know which building you live in, but we don’t know the apartment number. Even calling your management company would probably just illicit a loud guffaw of laughter.

And, then. Then. I found these in the backyard (along with your mixed tape from the 90s):

Yesterday, just a few hours after I hit post on my Three Things This Thursday post. I let the dog out and saw something that wasn’t garbage, nor broken, sitting on it’s side in our garden. Odd. There were four of them. They’d been there a few days – which tells you how often we’ve been in our back yard now that it’s gotten chilly – and were muddy, but intact. Even the seals were still strong. 
I was a little suspicious. Were you trying to get rid of us once and for all? Did you line the seals with a vapourous poison that would release every time we opened the jars? 
I like to think the best of people. So, I gratefully accept your beautiful gift and hereby forgive you of all the garbage throwing you’ve been doing. The Husband has washed these up and now they sit prettily on my window sill, waiting to be filled with chocolate chips, coffee, white sugar, and flour. 
(The white one came from Ikea, not our backyard.)
But please. Please stop throwing your garbage in our backyard.
Okthanksbye.
Nette

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