February 25th, 2010 by Hoopleton

February 22^nd

Today I noticed a yellow house with a red chimney creeping across my front lawn. As I walked out to investigate it suddenly planted its foundations into my driveway making any attempt to leave by way of the garage impossible. I’ll wait till tomorrow and hope the house continues down the block, if it doesn’t I’m afraid I may be forced to lodge a formal complaint with the City.

February 23^rd

The yellow house didn’t budge all night and this morning I decided to confront the owner directly. As I knocked on the front door a kindly elderly woman answered and invited me inside for tea. After exchanging a few pleasantries and some talk of the weather I brought up the subject of property lines. The elderly woman, Mrs. Neilson, insisted that her house had always been where it is and that it was my house that was the intruder. I proposed that she inspect the property for herself, but she remained adamant. The rest of the day was spent trying to navigate my car around Mrs. Neilson’s front porch, to no avail.

February 24^th

After another unsuccessful attempt at direct reconciliation I decided to call the City. Speaking with several department heads proved fruitless. Apparently the City has never dealt with property incursion by an entire house before. The only advice they could offer was that I wait until housing prices drop and hope that the yellow house go elsewhere. When I reminded them that we were in the midst of a housing crisis they assured me that there were many neighborhoods within the city valued much higher than mine. In the afternoon I noticed Mrs. Neilson’s grandson mowing my lawn, however he assured me it wasn’t my lawn he was mowing.

February 25^th

In the middle of the night the yellow house transplanted itself closer making it impossible to exit by the front door. In the morning the Fire Department arrived and cited me for creating a fire hazard. When I tried to explain the situation the Captain of the Fire Brigade insisted that I move my house thirty feet into my backyard to provide proper clearance. I once again attempted to speak with Mrs. Neilson, but was discouraged to find a note on her front door informing the post office that she’d be on vacation in Florida for the next several weeks. I fear that by the time she returns I may be little more than a tenant in the yellow house with the red chimney.