Fences Make Good Neighbors, Unless Your Neighbor is a Jerk who Builds an Ugly Fence

Mrs. Ditter,

I have neighbor issues with the rental house next door! Three years ago the owner introduced himself and said he was going to replace the fence. He asked if we would be willing to share in the cost for the side that we share. My husband and I got a few quotes, and later, the son of the owner knocked on our door with their quote--an outrageous amount! We politely declined to pay. A few months ago, they started removing the old fence without notifying us. They built a really ugly fence, nine feet tall, which is against the neighborhood association rules, and it is leaning into our yard. Then, a hand-written invoice for "our portion" of the fence appeared in our mail box. Should we just ignore the invoice or try to find the owner (he has never left us contact information)? I don't really think it is worth discussing. -- All Fenced In
Dear All Fenced In,
You're right. It's not even worth discussing. It's your neighbor's responsibility to build and maintain his fence. Plus, you clearly stated that you would not help with the cost. You're in the clear here. It may be that he tossed the invoice in your mailbox on the off chance that you would throw some money his way. Don't do it! 

The bigger issue here, of course, is when do we stop being polite and start being assertive (yes, many of us have problems being politely assertive). Ideally, we strive to be on good terms with our neighbors, or, in this case, with the owners of the neighboring homes. Sometimes, however, the neighbors don't seem to be as interested in being on good terms with us, even if we're the most polite people in the world and we never encourage our dogs to poo on the neighbor's lawn, or have EAR-BLEEDINGLY LOUD, MUSICALLY CHALLENGED GARAGE BANDS practicing for hours at a time, or have parties that go on outside until three in the morning and end up with setting off fireworks in the street.  
Sorry, did I wander a bit there? Anyway, if I were in your situation, I would contact the neighborhood association and bring them up to speed on what's transpired, because your neighbor doesn't seem to want to be a good neighbor. So cover your butt, is what I'm saying.

I would also write a short note to the owner, and ask the current renters for his contact info. In the note, outline the facts. Stay calm. No name-calling! Refrain from telling him that he's a law-breaking, design-challenged cretin. You could certainly point out that the fence is leaning into your yard, but  then you might have to deal with this yahoo trying to repair the fence, and I think we all know how that will end. 
If it were me? I'd be at the nursery right now, looking for a long trellis and some mighty fast-growing vines. 
Let me know what happens! I'm interested in the outcome.
Have a question for Mrs. Ditter? Leave it in the comments section below.

Blah Blah Blah You're Talking My Ear Off

Mrs. Ditter, How do you deal with socially inept people who zero in on you at parties, church coffee hours and other events? They mistake my politeness for eagerness to listen to excruciatingly long monologues on software installations, cute things their cats did, etc. I finally cut them off or simply walk away in mid-sentence, but it feels incredibly rude. -- Trying to Escape


Hmm. We've all been there on this one, haven't we? Once in a while, we're even the person blathering on (oh, yes you DID hold that nice lady captive last Sunday. I saw you!).

Here are a few things to try when you're conversationally trapped:
1. Engage your compassion gene. "This counts as my good deed for the day. Am I looking as if I'm listening? God, I hope she shuts up soon."
2. Engage your compassion gene even more forcefully. I always think that behind every face, there's something eternal going on. The late John O'Donahue said that, and he was a wise man, so pay attention. While you're reciting your "Oh, poor me, I'm stuck with this boring old cow" mantra, remember that This Boring Old Cow may actually have something interesting to say. And even if he or she doesn't--especially even if they don't!--you may want to dig deep and just listen to them. You could even try to engage them in a real conversation, unless you're afraid your head will explode from the effort.
3. Okay, enough of that compassion crap. You've reached your limit, and you say, "I'd love to talk more, but I was hoping to connect with (insert name of someone else at the event), so I'll let you go now." And you walk away. Preferably in the direction of the person you just referenced.


Thanks for trusting me with your question. And, as always, if you have a question, leave it in the comments at the end of this post.

Does Fear Keep us Small? or, The Flaming Marshmallows of Anxiety

Mrs. Ditter,
I'm stuck in a rut and can't seem to see my way out of it. Part of me suspects that I'm stuck here because I can't quite step up to making a change I know I need to make. I saw a bumper sticker the other day that announced "Fear Makes Us Small". Do you agree? What do you think it means? 


Dear STUCK: Yes, of course fear makes us small. And fear keeps us stuck. Mrs. Ditter is an expert on this topic, having nurtured a ten-year case of writer's block out of fear of rejection. 

But--fear also keeps us safe. If you burn your fingers making s'mores, if you drive your car off the road, if you fall off a skateboard and break your ankle, you'll most likely pay attention to that little jolt of fear that pops up next time you're tempted to (choose one) flame an innocent marshmallow, drive recklessly, attempt a halfpipe even though you're 53 years old and totally clueless on small, fast, unstable wheeled slabs of wood. You're going to stay safe. And that's a good thing.


There are exceptions, of course, but most animals (human and otherwise) operate in this fashion. And I'm not exactly the first one to have this insight. Way back around 500 B.C.E., Aeschylus said, "There are times when fear is good. There is advantage in the wisdom won from pain." 


Staying safe out of fear carries an emotional and physical cost, however. Linked in with the message "Don't touch the fiery marshmallow!" is a small dollop of anxiety. Living in a constant state of anxiety takes a toll. Again, not an original insight on my part. 


I'm intrigued by the first section of your question, however. You say you can't seem to see your way out of the rut. But you follow that by saying, "Part of me suspects that I'm stuck here because I can't quite step up to making a change I know I need to make."


If you KNOW you need to make the change, make the change. 


And if you're truly not sure, ask yourself these questions first: If I don't make this change, how will I feel in six months? In a year? In five years? If I do make this change, how will my life be different in six months, a year, five years?


A note of caution (not fear!): If other people will be significantly impacted by the change that YOU make, please be sure to review the commitments you've made to them, and to talk with them, and to listen to THEIR fears, before you drop a huge change on their heads. Sometimes what looks and feels like being stuck in a rut is just slogging through the reality of day-to-day delivery on our commitments. It's not sexy, it's not exciting, but it might be where you need to be at this moment.


Thanks for trusting me with your question. And as always, if you have a question for Mrs. Ditter, leave it in the comments section below. I'm looking forward to hearing from you!

What If?

I'm happy with my life...but now and then...most often at 4am...I lie awake wondering what might have been had I made different decisions along the way...what have I missed out on? It's not that I want a different life, just that I'd like to have a few more, going on in parallel. Mrs Ditter, do you have any advice on how to deal with this existential angst or should I just make a cup of tea and go back to sleep? -- Anonymous

Oh, I love this question. Haven't we all been there? What if I had/hadn't (choose one): gotten married to this person/moved across the country/moved back across the country/gone to this university/taken the bus that day/worn the pink lacy panties instead of the plain white ones. I think we can agree that greater minds than ours have tackled this question in the past. Lesser minds, as well. So by all means, brew up a fresh cuppa while we chew on it for a while.

First of all, maybe you DO have one or two other lives going on in parallel to this one. You wouldn't exactly know, would you, unless you stumbled across some strange wormhole in the fabric of time and space. At this very moment, you may be essentially yourself, but doing something totally different, in a different reality. That's a wierdly comforting thought, in a way. Makes you feel not so bad about all that untapped potential you're leaving lying around in THIS life.

Second, a great way to stop fretting about this is to write the script of that alternate life. Seriously. I've done it, and it's a blast. The next time you're staring at the ceiling at 4:00 a.m., get up, grab a fresh piece of paper or open a new document on your screen, and go for it. Give yourself the story of yourself, with different choices: You didn't leave the Midwest. You did marry that guy you dated in college. You had five kids instead of two, or one kid instead of six, or no kids at all. You studied science instead of art. You never got married! And on and on and on. Each new choice leads down a new path, sort of like those kids books that were so popular several years ago, where the readers got to craft the story as they went along. Does Amanda open the door into the scary room? If yes, turn to page 193. If no, turn to page 115.  

Finally, you may enjoy checking out movies and books that have played with this concept. Terry Pratchett's Discworld series has a few books that explore time/space/alternate realities. The Outlander series by Diana Gabaldon begins with a woman transported back in time (as do many other books). "Sliding Doors" starring Gwyneth Paltrow and some random hot guys revolves around two alternate realities, based on whether or not she makes it onto the London tube or if she misses her train.

"The unexamined life is not worth living," said Socrates (and you can bet he's a greater mind than you and me combined). Examine away, what-if until your head hurts, and then come back to your current lovely, wonderful, terrific life.

And what if you want the lovely tea mug in the above picture? Lucky you. Just follow this link: http://www.kaboodle.com/reviews/bee-house-tea-mug--blueberry

The Short, Passionate Life, aka What Price Safety?

This is our black and white kitty. Doesn't he look intimidating?

He's a naughty kitty. He's also very brave and very, very lucky: When he was a small kitten, he battled a coyote in our back yard until the dog and I got out there to rescue him. He's dodged the neighbor's dog on more than one occasion. Last week, he was two steps away from being trounced by a deer until I broke up the stand-off. And a few weeks before that, a neighbor reported that he'd seen our cat racing away from a coyote--in broad daylight. 


Most of my cats have not attracted this sort of attention from the local wildlife. Most of my cats have qualified for Feline-AARP membership by the time they died. 


But my black and white kitties don't do so well. The first one met up with a car. The second black and white cat flew out the door late one night when I had the dog out for, you know, late night dog issues. He never came back. And you know about the current black and white. Lucky, so far.


But lucky only takes you so far. So when a neighbor called to tell me that a pack of coyotes was hanging out behind her house, I hauled Mr. Naughty Cat inside. He's been inside now for two days.


He's going nuts. He's banging on the windows. He's yowling at the doors. He's following us around, winding around our legs, tangling himself in our feet. If we even think about heading to a door, he's there first. "Let MEEEOOOWWWT,  let MEEEEOOOWWWWT."


I'm just trying to keep him safe. He, however, spits at the idea of safety. Safety is for wimps, for sissies, for Persians whose noses are too squashed to smell danger and battle it. Bring on the danger!


For me, raising kids is kind of like this whole cat thing. You spend all your time trying to keep them safe and healthy, and they just want to get out there and taunt the coyotes. "Bring on the danger!" they cry. "And, hey, Mom, could you make me a sandwich?"


Anyway, the question of the day is: Do we want our kitties to have a long, sheltered, indoor life with lots of safety, or do we want our kitties to have a (possibly) short but exhilarating life spent catching rodents, stalking dragonflies, sleeping in the catnip patch, and dodging coyotes? Please feel free to substitute "children," "ferrets," "chickens" or whatever you please for "kitties." 


What's your vote? And please, no lectures about the dangers of cats being outdoors--I know all the research, I know all the compelling arguments for keeping them inside. Our family reality is that the cats go in and out as they please. Bring on the danger!

Leave Your Question in the Comments Section at the End of This Post!

...and I'll get to it just as fast as I can.


Thanks for visiting!

A Little Rage Can Be A Good Thing

After a hellacious divorce I gave up going to the church my former wife and I had belonged to for many years. My ex-wife still attends. Except for a very few friends, none of the parishioners ever offered any support to me. One of these parishioners asked me if I would support a fund raising pledge drive to increase the church's charitable outreach. I really wanted to take his head off. Any ideas on how I can let go of this? -- Mike


Well, Mike, my first response to your letter was, "Where's your machete?" **** that whole concept of forgiveness, personal growth, blah blah freakin' blah.


However, we'd rather see you as a happy, well-adjusted member of society than as the next news cycle's top story. So let's take a step back here.


First of all, you're wondering how to "let go of this." I'm wondering just what you want to let go of. The rage? The righteous indignation that, after the lack of support you received from what you THOUGHT was a community that loved and cared for you, a member of that community would have the balls (not to mention the lack of social skills) to ask you for monetary support? Are you trying to let go of the residual hurt that you're obviously still feeling from being, essentially, dumped by your spiritual family? They're asshats, by the way.


Does the situation suck? Yes, it does. Can you move on? Of course. But first, you have to ask yourself the sort of question that might cause you to throw your computer through the window. Here's the question:


What do you gain from holding onto the hurt and the anger?

EMAIL LINK

Hello, there, all you people with problems, questions, things to talk through...


I'm trying to figure out how to put an email link on this blog. Until then, leave me your questions, sticky situations, or rants in the comments section below the most recent blog post.


Thanks for visiting, and I'm looking forward to hearing from you.

Little White Lies and Our Kids

I agree with telling the truth...most of the time. But I often struggle with the concept of a "white lie." When is it okay, Mrs. Ditter, for kids not to tell the truth if saving someone's feelings would count for more? --Carrie


Thanks for the great question, Carrie. Let's do a little poll: Anyone out there never told a Little White Lie? Show of hands, please. Right. No hands up.


So in practice, this seems deceptively simple and even obvious: You tell a lie if the truth would hurt someone's feelings.


But if you look more deeply, it's not that simple. Lying, even LWLs, can lead to hurt feelings and broken trust. And while you (or your kids) may save the other person's feelings in the short run, the end result can be ugly.


I'm remembering one day many years ago when an LWL backfired on me. My best friend and then- roommate asked me for a reality check on her outfit before she left for work. "Yeah, yeah, you look fine," I said, even though she...well, she had much better choices in her closet. 


That night, she stomped through the door and hollered, "What the **** were you thinking, letting me go out like this? I look like an idiot! I've looked like an idiot all day! Look at me!" 


"You do not," I said. And then I caved. "Umm. Well. Maybe you..."


"Maybe I should burn this piece!" she shouted, stomping into her bedroom.


You know the end of this story. A few weeks later, I put on an outstandingly heinous and out-of-fashion blouse (because everything else I owned was dirty), checked in with my roommate ("Yeah, yeah, you look fine. I like the ruffles!"), and went to work. The instant I walked in the office, I knew she had set me up. Reactions from my coworkers ranged from raised eyebrows to startled glances, with eyes quickly averted.


Did I end up at Nordstrom on my lunch break? Yes, I did. Since this was before cell phones, I was not able to call my best friend from the dressing room and hiss, "Okay, okay, you were right. I should have told you to burn that dress. I'm sorry." Instead, I yelled at her after work. She admitted it was payback. 25 years later, we're still best friends, and we're brutally honest when we shop together. 


I don't believe that brutal honesty is called for in most circumstances, however. And discerning those circumstances is a challenge for most adults, much less kids. Most of us have experienced the hurt that comes with someone aiming their honesty at us in a selfish manner. And I'll bet most of us have said true, if hurtful, things to other people (guilty on that charge, right here). 


But none of this addresses your question, Carrie, about kids telling LWLs. One recent study done at McGill University in Montreal by Professor Victoria Talwar designates LWLs as a positive developmental milestone, indicating the development of empathy and the ability to connect with other kids (see her website at  http://www.talwarresearch.com/whatsnew.html for more information).


So, lying is good? Lying is pro-social behavior? According to the kids available for survey at Mrs. Ditter's house, the answer is absolutely, unanimously, enthusiastically YES. "Because sometimes the truth would just hurt somebody's feelings," says one. "But if you think they'll find out you lied, then no, don't do it, because it would just hurt their feelings even more," says the other. Ruffled blouse, anyone?


In the end, Carrie, I have to toss this one back to you. Follow your heart. Talk with your children about what they're saying, and why. If they can tell the truth instead of a lie, that seems to me to be the better choice. But we all parent differently. And as parents, we have to model for our kids the way we want them to be in the world. If they see you telling kindly, well-intentioned LWLs, that's likely what they'll do. And that's not bad, as long as you can help them understand when it's appropriate to do so, and when the truth--gentle but honest--is called for, instead.

Mrs. Ditter Dispenses Common Sense Advice

Why should you bring your problems to me? Because, as you can tell from the spartan format of this blog, I am a totally no-nonsense, down to earth person. My advice springs from the wisdom gained by a life enthusiastically lived: I come from a large family and am currently raising several children and animals. I'm insatiably curious about other people and love listening to their stories. I have been dragged backwards through the hellstorm of life on more than one occasion and still believe that we're here on Earth to have fun, seek truth, laugh our heads off, and be nice to each other as best we can.

Bring on your questions. I look forward to hearing from you.