Every neighborhood has its share of quirky neighbors. I guess I never realized before that I'm the local representative!
Sure, everyone leaves their cans on a kitchen counter to recycle after a get-together. But here, we have the cans and usually lots of dishes to do as well after a party. There's a set of Stonyfield yogurt kiddie cups on the counter, washed and drying to mail back for recycling.
Not to mention the daily line-up paper bags of Sunday newspapers, mail and assorted papers, and plastics, tin cans and aluminun to recycle.
Heck, my husband even washes and balls up the aluminum foil to recycle after cooking, to make a poor three-point shot into the bag.
Upstairs, in the loft, there's another line-up of boxes. What outgrown kids items to sell back. What to give to a friend. What to donate to the next drive.
But the neighbors can absolve me of my wierdness. After all, that's within my home. It's that whole "outside" thing that's making them shake their heads.
The other day, I mentioned the compost bin situation to a friend of mine in an attempt to commiserate with her over her trampoline issue. Her reaction? Crinkling up her nose in disgust. Come on, this is vegetable bits, not manure! And if you do it right, there's little or no smell at all.
Then yesterday, we ran into another neighbor as we're meauring out where to put the raised bed. She sort-of accepted the veggie bed (though I've found some great plans in some of the books I'm reading!), but her eyebrow definitely raised and I think I saw a "I'm so glad I'm moving" expression when I mentioned the dwarf blueberries we were thinking about adding to our yard to help meet our bush quota.
Nevermind that my home is one of the most landscaped on the street. When you break out of comfort zones of the people around you, you become the wierd neighbor. And I think I'm OK with that.
5 comments:
Hey -- a kindred spirit. I've been the neighborhood weirdo every since we moved in -- no one was especially thrilled with my compost pile (we finally put up a fence to stop offending)or my vegetables or my native plants. I think I like being weird -- glad to know you're there too.
I'm the weird neighbor and the weird church member. I'm the one who raises chickens to kill, raises goats and actually drinks the milk and makes soap and cheese. I'm the one who not just nursed a child, but *gasp* the child was walking and talking. Not only that, I was pregnant with one while nursing another. And *gasp* nursed both at the same time for a while.
And, I gave birth AT HOME. TWICE!
Yeah, I'm a freak.
jmosley--I'm not saying a word about you being wierd or not. I've been around you people a long time.... ;-)
MrsHoppes -- I think people just can't handle things that lay outside of their comfort zone. They may be willing to buy handmade soaps or artisian cheese at a farmers market or shop, but making it themselves falls way out of their area of comfort or understanding.
And I think the whole nursing/childbirth experience is something that is difficult to change opinions on. Just a generation ago, parents were routinely encouraged to do formula, and still today you don't see people keeping up with nursing for more than a few months (though it's better than nothing!) because culturally there isn't that support. I could get on my soapbox on that for a long time...
It can be fun to be the "weird" one sometimes! :o) Enjoy it!
haha I can relate to this!!
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