Garden Accident Neighbor Feud Averted (anxiety in no way exaggerated the situation nope)
So today, my gardening included pruning this weird mimosa tree this house came with that keeps trying to grow into the next door neighborâs yard. The wife once, like ten years ago, expressed displeasure with it going over. The flowers are messy, yeah. So I try. But once the growing season starts I canât get to that portion of the tree without destroying a section of my garden so if the tree decides to visit them after I prune, whatever. BUT I TRY. Because I remember all-out neighbor feuds in my childhood neighborhood and please dear God no, not when I am an adult actually responsible for this shit. We already donât have the best⊠well, any relationship with these people. We barely wave at each other. Theyâve lived here since my auntie bought the house in the 1990s and they were friends with her but not us.
So I climbed up in the raised garden bed and was clippity-clipping and directing the branches to fall into my yard instead of theirs, as is my annual ritual.
Then either I messed up or the tree trolled me.
I clipped a big-ish branch, swung after the snap to direct it left, ???????, it went right instead⊠and over their wall.
Something that usually would have made me cringe but not worry. The husband wouldnât care.
The big branch spun on its way down, landed on its cut end at just the wrong angle, bounced into the deep end of their swimming pool, and sank to the bottom as I watched from above the retaining wall with a Surprised Pikachu face, arms holding 30âł lopping shears over my head.
My mind immediately brought up the ten-year-old memory of the wifeâs Karen face as she told me to keep my tree trimmed so they wouldnât get messy flowers in their pool (a legit concern, the problem was the delivery) and I remembered my childhood and my anxiety slammed all Red Alert buttons.
This accident would look like a defiantly petty flex in my old neighborhood.
In that neighborhood, the branch would probably find its way back onto my property in some âequallyâ petty way. Hopefully not one that caused property damage, but you never know.
The husband often comes out back in the evening so I was working and hoping and hoping and hoping he would come out and I could explain. But nope. I didnât see lights on when I came in at dark, either. So I had Mom dig through stuff from Auntie until she found a business card magnet for the lady next door. It was obviously from the 1990s. Was any of the information still true?
Dialed the first number. Someone picked up. Male voice but tons of static. Got in a âhello?/hello?/HELLO?/hello?â with him. Woman takes the line.
Me: Hi, this is [Corisanna]. Does this number still belong to [Karen]?
[Karen]: âŠâŠY-e-s-s-s?
Me, probably too fast: This is [Corisanna] next door. I just wanted to let you know I accidentally dropped a tree branch in your pool. And it sank. Not⊠huge, but not small. And itâs at the bottom of your pool.
[Karen]: I⊠what⊠whowhat?
Me: [repeats] So like. If you want to get it out now so your vacuum doesnât⊠you know. Just so you know.
[Karen]: Oh. How didâ? Oh.
[Karen]: I⊠thank you for⊠letting us⊠knowww�
[Karen], sounding like sheâs in the Twilight Zone: You⊠too?
BETTER THAN NEIGHBOR FEUD
I think she didnât realize we still have their number LOLOLOLOL
But also she was probably picturing where my tree is in relation to their yard and trying to figure out how my dumb ass had managed to get a piece of it in their pool like
