Patience is the companion of wisdom.
Monday morning, another work week begins. Almost seems like it never ended. Weekends pass by so quickly; sometimes it's like they were not even here. Especially my cooking weekends. My friends, it is dreadful in the summer. There is no air in the kitchen, and cooking all these meals can feel like sheer torture. For those that don't know, every other Saturday I shop for two weeks and cook for two weeks, freeze, and serve. Some nights I work until 7 pm. Who wants to come home and cook after that?
New York railroad style homes are the pits. I've two windows in the front of the house and two in my son's room in the back. The living and dining room have none. This is because the houses are attached. There is AC in both bedrooms, it doesn't reach the rest of the house. The kitchen has a back door, but then I have to worry about my cat, Minga. She has been poisoned twice so it has been about six years since she has been allowed out...and at 19, I don't think she would survive another round of it. So, usually the door remains shut.
But Saturday, I checked on her, and she was sound asleep in her little spot so I opened the door for a few, just to air it out; it was so darned hot. It was only a few minutes before I happened to notice that I had an audience. The kids next door who had been playing on the swings and in the pool were all lined in a row on their porch looking into my kitchen. They had actually taken the seat from their picnic table and were actually leaning over the railing to get a better look. I'm sorry, but I have to say there is something wrong with little children who will give up all their fun to stare into someone's home. It's just not normal. And to make it worse, the mom's sit there and allow it to happen.
What's wrong with saying to your child, "Don't do that. It's not nice." No, it is not nice, and it is downright rude. I want so badly to ask these mothers what is wrong with them, and you are probably saying I should. Let's just say it wouldn't be a good idea on my part. Aside from allowing their children to be Peeping Tom's, they also allow them to destroy the neighborhood. There is forever garbage on the sidewalks--paper cups, fruit juice cans, dirt they have dug up and thrown on the sidewalk--but the chalk. I wouldn't mind if they drew a hopscotch layout, but they take this never-ending supply of chalk and they scribble up and down the whole street with mama sitting on her butt and watching. One day I came home from work and found three of them on MY porch, of course with mama watching.
Is it me? Am I forgetting what it's like to be a child? Am I becoming a bitter old crone? I just can't ever remember doing things like that, or even allowing my kids to be so destructive. I was always on top of everything they did, teaching them right from wrong. Heck, when I was a child, mom had to practically drag me out of the pool, and it was the same with my boys. Giving it all up to stand there watching someone cook, in their own home, never crossed my mind.
Forgive me, I didn't start out to rant, but as I wrote the words just started to flow. I've accepted the fact that I have no privacy in my backyard and have learned to live with waiting til the darkness of night to spend time there...which is not so bad. I not avoid the blazing sun, but the evenings are so much cooler and refreshing. Night has always been my time. But, when I am in the privacy of my home, I feel violated. It makes me quite uncomfortable, and I am really amazed at myself that I have avoided conflict thus far. Sometimes I stare back them and get a kick out of how they get all nervous and look down at the ground or off to the side. "There, how do you like it?" I know, two wrongs don't make a right.
And it's not just the children in the houses next door, it is up and down the block...and it is not just me. Whenever someone not of their faith passes by, they stop whatever they are doing to watch. I want to say, "You know, I lived here first." so don't be watching me like I'm from outer space. I wish I knew why they did that. I wish I had the answers. All and all, though, they are only little kids, and if their mom doesn't teach them any better, how can I blame them? Besides, it could be worse. I could be in one of those neighborhoods where you are afraid to step out of your door. (Oh how I long for the country life!) (Sigh)
Patience serves as a protection against wrongs as clothes do against cold.
For if you put on more clothes as the cold increases, it will have no power to hurt you. So in like manner you must grow in patience when you meet with great wrongs, and they will be powerless to vex your mind.
Leonardo da Vinci