Today I've been so happy, reflecting on my conversation last night with Maria and Will! Alan has been so happy that calls from Tijuana, Mexico, show up on our Caller ID as "unknown name/unknown number" because he suspects - quite rightly - that if I had their number, I'd be spending most of my waking hours phoning Mexico, updating Maria (and Will!) on the minutiae of my life, and consequently we'd probably have to eliminate something from the budget - something pesky and stupid, like food. I *heart* Maria and Will. But you knew that.

I have news of another sort, as well. With regard to my latest Skanky Neighbor Update, Sandy comments: "Let me guess: After a week, none of the crud has moved?"

Well, yes and no, Sandy - yes and no. None of the crud has moved at the volition of the cleaning crew and the mysterious party who dispatched them, that's true. Every last inch of debris would still be piled as before in the garage, except - [dun dun DUNNNNN!]

THERE'S BEEN A LOOTIN'!!!!

At least, we suspect a lootin'. Yesterday at ten minutes to eleven, I received an e-mail from Alan (who works from home and on no account may get a job which would not allow this until we live in a far less interesting neighborhood). Subject: DOINS!!! E-mail: "DOINS NEXT DOOR!!!! Looks like a couple of Bubbas and a Mexican fellow going through the pile for anything salvageable. I see the oven (same as ours, just brown) on top of their van now, and they're scouring through the rubble to find anything worth selling. Woo Hoo, DOINS!!!"

So, not only did the Pigbys yank the oven out of the wall (in addition to the toilet they yanked out and threw into the backyard, in direct line of sight to my kitchen window - I was thrilled), apparently some redneck dudes scavenged it, for what enigmatic purposes we can only wonder, out of the giant pile of rubble.

I replied, asking Alan if he thought it was the original clean-up crew, under orders to retrieve anything salable. He wasn't sure, but shortly thereafter I got another e-mail update from our Man on The Scene: "And then there were none...the Bubbas have gone. How do I know? Because I heard this loud crash and clatter from the front of the house, so I looked out the window to see them picking up all the crap that had fallen out of the back of, and off the top of, their van as they took the corner of Havenridge and Turner at speed. Luckily that happened before they got on the highway..."

Based on their time in/time out and (failed) attempt at a hasty getaway, we suspect that the Bubbas were unauthorized. OMG, y'all! There's been a disembodied inoperable oven theft RIGHT IN MY SUBDIVISION! Along with other random useless, unwanted junk! That tears it - we gotta get out of here, into a respectable neighborhood where the criminals jack your Benz, not your useless bad 70s oven in Harvest Brown.

ETA: Alan was proofreading my post for accuracy and typos, and he said, "I mean, what's wrong with them? You, like, fail at STEALING."

I said, thinking of how the Pigbys lived, "I bet it wasn't their fault they wrecked. There was probably a raccoon in that oven."

Alan: "ACH DU LIEBER! RACCOONZ!" (<--- valuable Hellhole prize for whomever gets that reference)