Sometime Around Midnight

Ok...so the six barking dogs next door to me don't look nearly as bad after seeing this story and video posted on BoingBoing today (below). Click here for the LAWeekly full story.

Rat-owning animal-hoarding rapture-obsessed twin elderly ladies versus the family next door

Posted by Cory Doctorow, August 2, 2008 2:17 AM | permalink

The LA Weekly has a long, gruesome feature about a dispute between neighbors in the affluent area of Pacific Palisades. It all starts when a young family moved into an expensive little bungalow and discovered that the elderly twin ladies next door were animal hoarders who'd raised tens of thousands of rats. Then it gets interesting, as it transpires that pretty much everyone -- the realtor, the town, the former owner -- all knew about the rats and had not bothered to mention it to the new owners.

When he crept closer, the odor — “a urine stench” — was “unbearable.” By the end of their first long weekend in the Palisades, Liz was stressed out, peering at shadows. The more she peered, the more rats she saw. Standing in her own master bedroom, she found herself at eye level with a group of rats who clearly had a routine, slipping methodically in and out of drains and cracks on her neighbors’ outside wall.

She saw three rats squeeze out of a roof drain in a precision, shoulder-to-shoulder group, Ratatouille-style. Another rat pack traveled along the dusty, reeking hedge on the property line. The hedge was a rat highway, and it swayed under its commuters’ weight.

Liz knocked on her neighbors’ rotting front door, but no one answered. They soon learned from other neighbors that the owners were 78-year-old twins Margaret and Marjorie Barthel, who rarely left the house — and never at the same time. When one of them did go out (and many people could not tell them apart), she wore heavy clothes, a wide-brimmed hat and large glasses as she pushed a shopping basket from Ralphs. It was always filled with large bags — of dog food. They haven’t owned dogs for years.

Those Times I Waited On You Seem So Long Ago

I am finally all moved in to my very first all-mine home. I haven't really blogged about it because I was scared I would somehow jinx it all (the closing, the move - all of it). And then after closing I was packing and moving and was too busy to blog. But I am officially all moved in and in the process of unpacking and the internet is finally working. And I am making LOTS of trips to Home Depot and Lowe's. Which brings up an interesting dilemma which I rarely experienced as a loft-dweller.

What does a young, single, home-owning woman, whose "in case of emergency" is still her mother, do when she needs help with something that she physically cannot do alone? Sure, it is great to have my own house, and not have to share it with someone. All closet space is mine, no compromising on wall color or decor, only my car to fit in the garage, and just my own laundry to do. It's great. However, last night I experienced my first "uh oh, what now" moment. You see, my house did not come with a microwave. And how did people survive before microwaves? I don't have an answer for that. But I have been without one for one week and that's far too long for me. I had a "10% off any purchase" coupon for Lowe's. A friend was supposed to go with me but she bailed on me at the last minute (seems to be the trend these days), so off I went. Upon arrival I quickly hit the Lawn section for a hose and some weed killer. Then to the Appliances section. I (of course) had to buy GE, so I found a great microwave that came with a built-in browner. There was just one left. I grabbed the handle of the box and pulled. Yeah...not gonna happen. Turns out microwaves are heavy. Especially the stainless steel ones. So I let one of the employees in the Appliance section know that I need help. And I wait. And I wait. And then I walk back over to make sure they can see me. And then I put my hand on my hip and look really bored with with a smidge of annoyance in my eyes. Then a guy said he'd be right with me. Then I waited some more.... Finally he got the microwave down for me and said he'd meet me at checkout to load it into my car. After I checked out he was loading it in the car and asked "Do you have someone at home to help you get this inside?" Um, no. No I don't. Hmmmm....

Of course, if you know me, you know that once I got home I tried my hardest to get that thing out myself. Tried but no luck. Arghhh. I hate asking for help. And besides - who am I gonna ask? I start wondering how my mom did all this and raised a kid alone. She was awesome. She had table saws and jigsaws and cut her own quarter round and fixed toilets and did her own landscaping and killed spiders. I can DO THIS. Ahhh, but I can't lift the microwave alone and get through the door alone. And I can't leave it in my car all night and risk my car getting broken into. I don't need my car insurance going up on top of everything else.

So, I admit defeat and walk across the street and ask my neighbor for help. Good thing I had met them the week before. Neighbors - what a concept! So they helped me get the microwave inside, and between the 3 of us we finally got it out of the box. Then of course it didn't fit on the table I had for it, so they graciously cut me a table top out of some extra wood they had. I plugged it in and set the clock and voila, I'm done right?

Wrong. that's when I realize that the box did not contain the glass spinny-tray thing that it should have. (hands on hips) Back to Lowe's....

But before I head out to Lowe's again I think I'll bake my neighbors some cookies.