My Apologies

Boy, do I feel dumb.  I am not on top of the blogger game!

I contacted our HOA today to try and get something done about all the little unsupervised boys in the park behind us who are running amok on their Spring Break.  Mom and Dad are at work, and I think the older siblings who are supposed to be babysitting must be indoors playing video games.

The wild childs are newly obsessed with climbing trees and have spent the last 3 or 4 days standing in the tops of palo verdes looking over the wall at us.  It was amusing the first few days, but humor wore thin yesterday.  When Craig walked Saby in the park last night, he discovered the two Throwbacks (we call them that because they're throwbacks to a kinder gentler time when small children were allowed to run wild and free from one end of the village to the other with no repercussions)  had used their dad's hunting knives to totally strip the bark off an ash tree.

This morning shortly after 8:00 a.m., I was jolted away from my frappe by another wild one at the tippy top of the palo verde behind our wall screaming -- I can see your dog!  I fought the temptation to yell back -- Get out of that tree ya little bastard! -- but Craig reminded me that it might be best not to cement my reputation in the neighborhood as a crazy old bag.

We decided to take a kinder dual approach, not accusing any kids in particular, but just trying to alert parents to what's happening in the park. I  sat down and composed a nice letter to the HOA asking them to relay the dangers of little boys falling out of trees and playing unsupervised with sharp hunting knives to neighborhood parents, while Craig went around the corner to have a nice little chat with the Throwbacks who were once again at the scene of yesterday's crime.

Craig let them pet Saby, then lured them into conversation.  They were friendly and owned up to stripping all the bark from the tree, asked how much a tree like that would cost, said they knew the tree would probably die, and told him their dad lets them carry the sharp hunting knives. Yep.  He gave us the knives to carry.  Craig said his dual-pronged message that skinning trees was not a good thing and knives were dangerous in the hands of 5 and 6-year old's just ricocheted off them like arrows off concrete.  And off they sped on their little miniature bikes hooping and hollering. 

I think Craig may have been too subtle.  He soft-pedaled the message because he has fond memories of two wild and free-spirited friends from childhood, Chris and Ole, who wandered Dodge City in the 1950's shoeless, shirtless, and wearing the same pair of unwashed jeans with no underwear all summer long.  He said his mother would cringe when they walked through the door. 

But enough about grade school gangsters!

Back to my apology!  The HOA letter was automatically sent from my gmail account, which I never use.  It's my go to account when I have to provide an email that I know will end up generating loads of spam.  So, in the process of trying to find out if the HOA had responded, I weeded through 803 emails and discovered that many of my blog readers have contacted me in the past several years with questions, compliments, and invitations to meet them on Isla, etc... 

I'm so embarrassed!  I'm trying to figure out how to install a Join Me on Facebook button on my blog, but the code keeps coming up as an error.   Until I figure that out, feel free to friend me  on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/becky.mchugh.  You can also use the Facebook messaging system to send me a note. 

The tree strippers seem to have abandoned the park, so maybe Craig's little chat did sink in.  Oops, spoke too soon!  The non-blonde is up in the tree again yelling -- I see your dog!  Seriously?  What are you?  Six-years old?  Oops, I guess you are!  LOL

I talked to a mom across the street this afternoon who knows the families and will clue in the parents.  So hopefully the trees and boys will escape further injury, and Spring Break will end soon.  Ahhhhhhhhh.

Thank God I have no interest in nude sunbathing!  (Or any kind of sunbathing for that matter.)  Actually, that could have been a quick solution?   I wonder if you can be arrested for scaring children with your sags and wrinkles in your own backyard behind a seven foot wall?

Just kidding!