I apologize to my readers as I screwed up and Published Part #2 before Part #1… I hope you enjoy part #1 as much as part #2…It will give you more incite…
The Shovel Lady is a true story, it depicts the ever growing drug use and mental illness in the proximity where we used to live, it ran rampant .
It was a sunny warm spring morning, hubby and I had decided what we each would do that day, he was going to walk to town, take the bus to the farthest grocery store, buy a few grocery’s then catch the bus back home, about a 2.5 hr round trip. It was my day to clean house and keep an eye on the dog, since it wasn’t very safe to leave a pure bread pup outside by itself for fears of it being stolen.
I was in the kitchen doing dishes when I heard a noise, it sounded like a person digging curiously I looked out the window but I couldn’t see anything, then a thought popped into my head that maybe my neighbor next to us must have a worker doing some gardening in his back yard but I couldn’t see for a 6 ft.high fence separating our yards, so I just ignored it and continued with my dishes.
It wasn’t much longer after hearing the digging I saw a woman climbing up the back stairs to my neighbors porch to the kitchen door, she held in one hand a shovel and the other hand she was pounding on the door of my neighbors house yelling ” Let Me In! I live here and I want in now!!”, Well this kind of perked my neighborly interest so I went outside and thought I best inquire to whom she was and why she was there, as I had never seen her before and I knew all who lived there and I knew no one was home at the time, well, the answer I got was a bit strange, she turned to look at me and told me “I have to find my dead relatives, I’ve tried looking for them by digging in the front lawn but I still can’t find their bones, so I have to get into the house to search inside there for them”!
OK, this was the strangest conversation I’ve had in a while, other then the few drug induced chattering dribble from smoking a joint of wacky weed when I was younger, even then this took the cake! Yum….Cake! sorry…..I digress.
My answer to this wacko was a few choice words picked especially for this occasion ” Get The Fuck Off My Neighbors Porch Or I’ll Call The Fuck’n Cops!” Her answer to me was to pick up a plastic lawn chair and hurl through the window of my neighbors kitchen door! I shouted some more discouraging words that I hoped would make her stop but they didn’t work, the window was broken and she was reaching inside and unlocking the door! I ran into the house and called 911…
911 how may I direct your call? Police Please!… A lady with a shovel just broke into my neighbors house!
This absurd morning was just getting started………………………………To Be Continued