This is our house (pix from two years ago, before our “yard” was in). I think it’s rather nifty.
It sits smackdab in the middle of 10 acres (OK, a bit towards the southern property line, just in case any of you ever visit and decide to split hairs with me).
My husband’s “shop” was constructed towards the northern property line. There’s a line that runs between the house and shop: the lane.
Everything on THAT side of the lane is husband’s.
Everything on THIS side of the lane is mine.
So as a favor to a co-worker to Mr. DD’s BIL, he offered up HIS bit of property to “store” a POS Chevy truck (redundant) over the winter. Store, as in park the obnoxious garbage next to the shop. I bitched and moaned, but finally a compromise was struck, yes, he may park it, but it better be gone by spring (April).
It’s June and while the POS has been moved from one side of the shop to the other so he could mow, it is still here on HIS side of the property, but only barely.
I called the BIL myself and told him that his buddy needed to get the truck by the end of June or I’ll have it towed away under the guise of unclaimed property, regardless of cost to me. Don’t care.
Two days later, the buddy calls Mr. DD and says he’ll be over to get the truck. You have the spare key, right, he asks, because he can’t find his. Mr. DD replies that yup, sure do, just moved it.
Guess what Mr. DD can’t find since he moved the POS?
I’m just waiting for the day I wake up and a band of rednecks have decided to squat on HIS side and celebrate with a case of Schlitz, funyuns, and pickled eggs after they throw a crappy couch in the bed of the truck to sleep on.
Mr. DD will be joining them.