I’m not a gardener. In fact, I look outside at all that stuff growing, all that stuff I’m allergic to and then I look at my husband. He’s not allergic to trees and grasses. This is a guy who could freebase mold spores and still be perfectly fine. So I look at him and think, you do it, in all outdoor matters.
This is the division of labor that has worked for us for over 17 years. I take care of the inside; he takes care of the outside. He’s also responsible for anything on the inside that abruptly stops working.
So when I ran into A. last night at the store I was taken aback. A. is the woman who lived in our house before we did. She loves to garden and she and her husband did a great job landscaping the yard that is now ours. Let me just reiterate here; we bought the house, yard included, and it’s ours. If we want to let it dilapidate and weeds run wild that’s our prerogative (thank you Bobby Brown.)
At the store, A. asked if I’d been gardening. Well, no, was all I got out before she launched into talking about some kind of flower I’ve never heard of that she’d planted in our yard, back when it was her yard. She wants to come over and dig some up to plant in her yard. Fine, fine, whatever, I said. Call me this weekend, I said. She said, “Sure, I’ll come over and help you clean up the yard.”
What?
Um. My yard is fine, thanks. The boy, who was witness to this whole exchange, said, just say you’re busy all weekend. He does more in the yard than any of us; mowing, weeding, sweeping, raking and weed-whacking.
I guess this whole scenario wouldn’t bother me so much if it weren’t for this: a couple of months ago, the doorbell rang during my work day. I was on a conference call at the time, so could not answer the door. I work at home and from 8-5 everyday, while I’m here, I’m just not available. Don’t stop by, don’t call, just pretend I’m not even here. Except, remember that I AM actually here.
Moments later, while still on the phone, I spotted A. wandering around the backyard. She was investigating the plants, checking on the trees and generally nosing around. When I finally got off the phone I came out front to find her taking some clippings of the mint in the front yard. I was livid, but didn’t want to be impolite, so I guess I was kind of curt, explained I was working, and she went on her way.
Is this OK? I can’t even imagine doing such a thing, but then, I can be polite to a fault, I know. It just bothers me that anyone would have the gall to first, march uninvited into someone’s yard and second, volunteer to weed your garden. Would you say, oh, your kitchen’s such a mess — I’ll come over and help you clean it this weekend? I would only take that well from the closest of friends. And even then would feel insulted.
So I’ll either be self consciously analyzing my yard, all jacked up on antihistimines this weekend, or staying inside, cleaning and ignoring the phone and doorbell.
I’ve actually had a friend visit who ended up cleaning my kitchen and vacuuming for me. I did have a baby who was just two weeks of age, so the help was appreciated. It was weird.
The previous owner coming over to get things out of your yard–way too invasive.
I’m on the side of “way too invasive” too.
Next time you see her in the yard trimming stuff, just call the police.
Sheesh. There’s no law that says you have to answer your doorbell (or phone.) She’s definitely crossing a line.
Sounds like it’s time for the dreaded DIRECT COMMUNICATION. If you want someone to know something bothers you do need to tell them. If you are uncomfortable with someone’s request, or offer, or presumption then refuse it, decline it, or correct them. She sounds like she still wants to control what happens in the yard – only you can make it clear to her that she is not welcome to intrude. After that, THEN call the police.
A well cultivated lawn takes eight or more years to come together. Some people don’t invest that much time on raising their kids.
She was just coming back to visit the child she gave up.
If she’s in a retirement home now, or some place where she can’t grow something as beautiful or diverse, does it devalue you or your property to let her wander around the yard, wistfully snipping herbs?
I had the same situation. Identical, only my first little house on the edge of the city only had a little postage stamp lawn with a few flower beds. But after the kids moved the old Dutch lady to the retirement home, my crappy little yard turned into some kind of memory magnet for her.
When I had a giant dying maple cut down and removed from the back yard, she knocked on my back door the following Saturday. She was crying. She was angry. She told me about the fight that she and her late husband got into over where to put that tree. (She won the argument, but husband never let the subject drop.)
Yes, I was annoyed.
For three springs I walked out of my house to find the old lady on her knees, splitting Hostas and replanting them in places where I was trying to grow grass.
Yes, I was annoyed.
It was not annoyance, but surprise when I stumbled out of bed one morning my forth winter in the house, buck ass necked, and saw the old bitch standing in my living room.
There’s no startle like a buck necked startle, lemmetellya.
She stood there in her old folks home-issued housecoat and smiled at me like a frickin’ loon.
And then she was gone like a wisp of cigarette ash into one of those smokeless ashtrays. Fwoooop.
One of the best parts about being a man is that the world is your urinal. Not so great when it’s an involuntary reaction.
She came to see me one more time before I moved when I was down in the laundry room loading the dryer. I turned around to grab another load of wet towels out of the laundry basket to look straight at her pink-gray fuzzy slippers. I screamed like a little girl.
She had the same dopey, almost maniacal look on her weathered face. This time I had the presence of mind to say something, but I couldn’t think of anything relevant to say. I think what I said was “Do you f**king mind?” About that time I realized that her smile was more contentment than crazy, as I had first thought. And then she was gone again.
I have no doubt that you think I am as full of shit as a Christmas goose, as I would you if the situations were reversed.
But please consider this: If the old lady has an emotional attachment to the house, I AM BEGGING you to consider what kind of terms you want your relationship with the old lady to be when it’s out of your sphere of influence to reason with her.
This totally happened to us too! I ran into he original owners of our house (3 owners ago!) and my neighbor introduced us. She asked us how the yard was doing because they just loved that yard and all of the landscaping they did. She said she heard from some other neighbors (who I never even talk to!) that we were planning to take out some of the landscaping, and could they come dig up some of the plants because they belonged to her now-deceased mother-in-law. UGH!! We were taking out the landscaping because we were too lazy to take care of it…the weeds had overtaken everything and we hadn’t even mowed the grass in probably a month! They wouldn’t have been able to find the plants in the disaster mess of a yard anyway (that is if our dogs hadn’t dug them up already!) So there was no way we were letting her in the yard! So I totally fibbed and said we were leaving for the day, but we would give her a call sometime. I never did. And the landscaping is gone. =) I should feel bad, but I really don’t!
On one hand, I feel for the woman. I often think of my “landscaping” at the house I just sold. I put “landscaping” in quotes, because I was what I call a “guerrilla gardener.” I’d see some pretty plant at Home Depot or Lowes and buy it with no idea of where it would go when I got home. Then it would sit in the garage for a week, slowly wilting, until I finally decided that buying a plant just to watch it die in solitude was somehow anti-plantitarian. So I’d grab a shovel, choose a site at random, dig a hole, throw in the plant, throw some water on it, and be back inside within 10 minutes.
Believe it or not, some of those poor plants survived–beautifully. I especially loved some giant pink dinner plate hibiscus (hibiscuses?) that were gorgeous, and came back year after year despite my apparent neglect. I’ve even driven by the front yard a couple times “just to see” how everything’s growing.
But on the other hand, I sold those plants with the house, along with the closet organizers and pot rack that I installed and the gallons of paint that I applied to the walls. If the new owner wants to repaint, they’re her walls. If she wants to let the flowers die, she absolutely can. She paid good money for the house and land, as well as every plant and blade of grass that came with them.
It seems that A. is having a bit of trouble realizing that the deed to the plants was passed along with the house. It would be the same as coming into your house and rearranging your furniture. And given that I don’t think she’s elderly, and so, might deserve the respect and patience sometimes required there, I’d say the next time A. appears it may be time for a little chat–diplomatically of course.
Then there’s always finding out where she lives and pitching a tent on HER front lawn. See how she likes it.
If she politely asks your persmission to get a clipping, that’s one thing. If the previous owners of our house did that, I’d have no problem telling them yes.
To come over, uninvited, and start nosing around and clipping things, that’s another thing: trespassing. Offering to clean up the yard? Totally crossing a boundary.
I understand that people have sentimental attachments and it can be hard to let go. I think most people are sympathetic to that. But it seems like this woman is being invasive and not terribly considerate of your feelings in this situation. I think I would say, “Sure. Come over and get the flower from my yard. Thanks for offering to help in my yard, but we’re happy with it as it is.”
If I were you, I’d tell her forthright: “Lady. You’re freaking me out.”
The previous owner of our home was like that. Only she would just drive by and complain to our next-door-neighbor that we weren’t doing enough to the yard. I was like, “Woman. I work from home and I have two kids. Get a yard.”
Who knew this was such a hot topic!!
HILARIOUS.
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