There exists a little patch of grass outside the south windows of Our Humble Castle.
Not very big, about 40 feet by about 60 feet.
A cedar tree on the corner of that little patch of grass that was no bigger than our toddler's were when we moved in 20 years ago.
Not ours, but looks like ours.
It belongs to The Duplex around the corner, and because of the lot configuration and building locations, looks like a side yard for both our properties.
When we moved into Our Humble Castle, the sunlight reflecting off the snow covering that little patch of grass warmed our home, our plants, our pets and our hearts.
Still does.
When the snow melted, it became apparent that no one was going to mow that little patch of grass, so I did. The then Owner of The Duplex was an Absentee Landlord, as have all the others have been since. (seven, by our count) Some of them maintained that little patch of grass, some did not. Over the years, I've mowed that little patch of grass and cleared the walks for some of the Absentee Landlord's.
Sometimes because they asked.
Sometimes because I had to.
I entered into Gentleman's Agreements with some owners, maintaining that little patch of grass in exchange for use of it when Canada Day parties got large.
A few years ago, a tenant of The Duplex planted some nice flowering shrubs along the edge of that little patch of grass, close to the street. They didn't look like they were going to make it that first summer, so I watered them along with my own flowers and plants.
It makes for a nice little corner; flowering shrubs, that cedar tree is over my eaves now, and a blue spruce we planted our first spring here (it had been our Christmas tree the year before) is about 25 feet high now.
In May of this year, The Duplex was purchased by yet another Absentee Landlord. He immediately got into a disagreement with one of the current Tenants (a nice, quiet guy) who served notice and moved out. When Thing 2 was looking for a place to live, she applied and when the Absentee Landlord found out we were her parents, he signed her right up.
He told me when we signed the lease that he was going to make an addition to the rear of The Duplex next year, and that was fine.
What he didn't disclose was a plan to erect a whole new structure on that little patch of grass.
Not fine.
The implications of this new building on Our Humble Castle would be tremendous. I did calculations and made drawings that demonstrated that it would block our sunlight for 6 months a year, leaving us in a dungeon. There are also many engineering problems involving soil conditions, water tables, sewers and foundations.
But mostly it's the sunlight, or proposed lack thereof.
M.D.B. spends a lot of time at a table beside one of those windows, sewing and crafting. Preparing dinner. Visiting with friends. Watching the world on that street. What would she do if there was no sunlight?
There would be no more scenes of the dog and cat curled up in the same warm patch on a February afternoon.
Dark and stark for about half the year.
The Absentee Landlord of The Duplex needs variances and approvals for his plan, and at a meeting in July, he got told by The City to go back and try again. His plans weren't complete.
So now he's trying again, with virtually the same plan..
We will be at that meeting again, fighting to keep our sunlight...
...and a little patch of grass.
DJW
I'm fighting for the right to mow someone else's lawn?
Well the City turned the Absentee Landlord of The Duplex down.
So the little patch of grass is safe.
For now.
The following entry was inspired by Lorraine Sommerfeld's Motherlode column posted Dec 30th, 2013
It was March Nineteen-Eighty-Something when 3 Soldiers left Brantford for Meaford in a 1951 2 1/2 ton 10 wheel drive Command Post, converted to use as a Supply Vehicle.
I was driving, my best friend in the middle, and another Supply Tech in the co-drivers seat.
It took 3 persons to operate that truck as the transmission leaked so badly you had to add fluid on the fly. A case of fluid under the seat, and a trap door in the floor to access the tranny filler.
We were in shirt sleeves.
North of Guelph the weather started to turn. Rain, then sleet. The vacuum operated wipers failed, and had to be operated manually via the little levers inside. I needed every inch of the 3 foot diameter steering wheel to keep that beast under us, so it was the guy in the middle who had to operate the wipers.
The defrost and heat didn’t work, so the 3rd guy used a squeegee to keep the windshield clean on the inside.
Somewhere near Arthur a spray of fluid (I won’t say beer) covered my glasses. When I took them off my glasses broke in the middle.
On a downhill run.
Buddy One fished my spare pair out from my parka pocket.
Near Owen Sound, it had turned into a full force Bruce Blizzard. Buddy 2 on the outside started to shiver badly. It was another 30 – 45 minutes to Range Rd Diner at the bottom of 7 Mile Hill. When we got there, Buddy 2 was hauled into the ambulance and treated for hypothermia. Buddy 1 left to join his Gun Crew.
That left me alone to get that overgrown wagon up the hill, with no wipers or heat.
I did the only thing I could do, backed up a full concession, pulled my balaclava down over my face, took a swig of rum, opened the windshield up, kicked in the 10 wheel drive, said a Hail Mary (and I’m not even Catholic) and let her rip.
They said that when I broke the gate at the check point at the top, all 10 wheels were spinning and they could see the icicles on my glasses and mustache.
That, my friends, was cold.
DJW