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letter from a crabby neighbour – moi

I have a neighbour – I’m sure a very nice man – we’ve waved though we’ve never met – who enjoys his hobby, which is fixing up his house using an array of impressive power tools. He has many kinds of electric saws and drills and power washers; he hammers and staples and God knows what else. The man has a perfect right to do this, and I have a perfect right to curse him, sometimes quite loudly, as I did this afternoon. He started his latest project just after 8 a.m. Saturday and continued all day and all #%$ Sunday too, on and on, hammer and saw and a real screaming saw at that.

When another neighbour stopped by to complain, I decided to do what I do best – write. So I wrote a letter, wrapped it up in a nice bundle with three interesting and current books I was saving for the Little Free Library, and went over. He was in his driveway cutting stone with his circular saw; the noise was so loud, he didn’t know I was there for some time. I smiled and gave him the package and left.

Here’s the letter. I know my friend Lynn will laugh at my busybody letter-writing ways. I have not heard back, but the sawing did, not long after, stop, and the end of the day was sheer heaven. Am I a horrible intrusive person? Yes. Neurotic too. I hope he likes the books.

Dear neighbour:
Greetings to you on this beautiful Sunday afternoon. I’ve
been writing this letter to you in my head for a long time – for years,
actually – and now here it is. I’m finally writing it because it’s not just for
myself but for other neighbours too.
Your house must be the most beautiful and perfect house in
all of Toronto. We all know, because of the amount of time you spend with your
power tools and your power washer, cutting and drilling, making and building
and hammering and cleaning, especially on the weekend. It’s wonderful that you
have work that absorbs you so.
Perhaps you’re not aware, though, that everyone in the
neighbourhood knows exactly when you are at work. Yesterday morning I was
awakened by the staple gun. Today, a stunningly beautiful Sunday, you have been
hard at work from morning all through the day without a break.
Noise pollution is a big issue of concern for me, because
tranquillity equals sanity in my book. It’s a joy and a miracle how quiet our
neighbourhood can sometimes be, considering that we’re in the centre of the
city. I know that the noise of power tools is just the price we pay for living
with other human beings. And it could be much, much worse. There’s no loud
music, for which I am profoundly grateful.
I cannot ask you to stop doing what you do. Perhaps there’s
no solution for a man who loves to use power tools in a crowded city. I’m just
asking you to be aware that on this beautiful tranquil Sunday, I and all your
other neighbours have spent the entire day listening to you work and praying
that soon your house will be perfect, and you will take up reading.  
With best wishes,
 Beth

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2 Responses to “letter from a crabby neighbour – moi”

  1. Anonymous says:

    Great letter, Beth! I guess you've had years to figure out how to tactfully tell him off. I'd probably have bought a gun by now.
    Lani

  2. beth says:

    Even though all the sawing, drilling and banging has driven me mad for years, I'm always grateful, as I said, that it's not loud music. That would truly be unbearable. At least he's making something.

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About Beth

I began keeping a journal at the age of nine. Nearly fifty years later, I started this online journal, sharing reflections, reviews, updates, and the occasional secret.

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This blog evolves. It once was about travels. Now it’s a reason to be at the keyboard that I value.

Theresa Kishkan
Theresa Kishkan is a writer living on the Sechelt Peninsula on the west coast of Canada.

I walk on. With my feet, and in my mind as well.

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Wherever you’ve come from, wherever you’re going, consider this space a place for reflection and pause.

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