Thursday , 10 July 2014
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It usually is a beautiful day in my neighborhood

It usually is a beautiful day in my neighborhood

For those who don’t remember:

It’s a beautiful day in this neighborhood,

A beautiful day for a neighbor,

Would you be mine?

Could you be mine? — Sung by Mr. Rogers for many years.

 

It usually is a beautiful day in my neighborhood. I have some of the best neighbors in the world…almost.

Let me explain: I recently had carpal tunnel surgery (wrist problem) because my computer keyboard was too high. I searched all over for a desk or table that would suit my needs. Either they were very expensive or not suitable. I mentioned this to one of my neighbors and he came over to my house, took a brief look at my problem and in less than a half hour came back with a drawer which he mounted to my existing desk and I was back in business.

His fee?

“Just make sure I call him first before I go seeking anyone else.”

Wow!

When I came home all band- aged up after my surgery, another neighbor came over to me and offered to drive me anywhere I had to go and cut my lawn for free. How’s that for a neighborhood?

Another nice thing is that they all own dogs which allows me the pleasure of coming home at night to a bunch of barking dogs waiting for their biscuits, yet I don’t have to feed and bath them or any of the other responsibilities of owning a pet.

Now the bad part: There is a house from which my neighbors moved to Colorado and is now in some sort of pre-foreclosure. As I understand it, the banks don’t actually want to take over the property because then they become responsible for taxes and maintenance, so they kind of let things go. Try to find out who actually owns the property, and good luck.

The parents of the couple who lived there came by to see if their possessions were still intact at the house. They couldn’t get in because some- one was living there. The occupants said that they were renting, but couldn’t really say from whom.

They then agreed to rent from the par- ents but told them that they had no money with which to pay. The police were called, but they cannot enter someone’s house and suggested that the parents take legal action by reporting it to the Economic Crime Department, which we all know can go on forever.

The people living there are called squatters. A term from the olden days where people moving into the untamed West would settle on a piece of land, grow crops or livestock and as a result ended up owning the land.

There are all kinds of laws protecting these people that have never been updated, so it seems now that if you stay in the house more than 30 days, it is virtually impossible for anyone to remove you. If you don’t maintain the lawn etc., the owner, whoever that is, gets the summons, not the people living in the house.

A few of my “real” neighbors are getting a bit miffed at the fact that they actually have to pay the mort- gage and taxes, and here there are people liv- ing for free in a pretty nice home. I thought that perhaps FPL had something to say, but they tell me that if the person pays the deposit and had a previous account, they will supply them with electricity until they stop paying. Same for water. Wow!

How about changing the song lyrics from: “Trailers for sale or rent” to “Houses for free, if you have a key.”