My West Side neighbor is an educated woman who does not maintain her property. Doesn't get it when the City comes around after a complaint. I mowed her part of the side yard for years until I hired a man. He refused to mow it.
She doesn't trim trees or rake leaves. "Life is too short" she shrugs.

The lady across the street was the one who always complained. South said every time she looked out her window my neighbor had violated an ordinance. It got mean here in the valley of the flowers. I tried to stay out of the controversy but one Christmas Eve got a hysterical call from South. "Now she's done it," she cried. "I'm having guests to dinner and she has thrown a toilet out in her yard."

Son of Cloud was living here and he verified it was there. I had a Santa Claus doll and asked him to photograph Santa on the toilet. I thought South and her guests might find that amusing and hoped it would inject humor into a difficult situation. Just as I propped Santa on his perch a policewoman drove up. "Your toilet?" she growled. South had called the police and I was taking the rap. My explanation was lame but I got to tuck Santa under my arm and slink home.

Son of Cloud said, "Don't get me involved in any more of your capers." South died of a brain tumor a few years later.