Hello to all my readers and my most sincere apologies for the lengthy delay in my follow up post. Life in the Delacroix household has been very hectic of late.
This post begins in 2018 and will be a long read.
The reason I purchased this home in particular is that it had 9/10 “must haves” I was looking for: 4 bedrooms, hardwood floors, tile, 2250 sq. ft., attached garage, in ground heated pool, but most importantly, a South facing backyard with little to no shade. WINNER for this sun worshiper! As a pool owner, you are responsible for the proper maintenance of a fence so you don’t get sued.
In August 2018, I was diagnosed with colon cancer and told I would need to undergo immediate surgery – it happened so quickly it made my head spin. At the time, the ORs were all closed as a cost saving measure but from my colonoscopy to my surgery, 10 days elapsed. I returned home to recover on September 6. The following fall we had a series of severe thunderstorms and though I knew our wood fence was in bad shape, I didn’t realize just how bad it was until the South East corner of the fence completely folded down on itself. The neighbour, let’s call him Donald, propped up the back fence with a post after the storm.
I was using cannabis heavily to recover from my surgery. The doctors had sent me home with opioids, but I refused to use any of that opting for Tylenol #3 to help me sleep and a cannabis cocktail thru the day. Having a right hemicolectomy is rather unpleasant and one of the most painful surgeries you can have because they cut through all your nerves and in my particular case, the 25 cm or so tumor caused me to lose two feet of my colon. I returned to work healed, and 35 pounds lighter, in November 2018.
By May of 2019, I was in a full mental breakdown and had just been diagnosed with PTSD after having received the devastating news that I had genetic cancer, I was MSH6 Lynch positive and I would require more surgeries to prevent further cancers. In addition, I would have to be monitored yearly by several specialists because all my internal organs are susceptible to developing tumors. What caused my breakdown, in my opinion was the knowledge that I had doomed my children to certain death. I was fine knowing I’d die of cancer some day, but I was unable to deal with/process/handle the thought that my wrongness would kill them too.
I had been in touch with my landscaper to get a quote on the fence, but so late in the season, I wasn’t able to get anyone to come by. Not to mention, I was pretty exhausted mentally, my surgery, subsequent diagnosis, and PTSD had taken a toll on my emotional well-being. Believing you are going to die will do that. I decided to defer until 2020.
I was deeply depressed and in a pit of total despair for several months. I had severe insomnia, didn’t like to speak, be touched, leave my house, or even go outside. I didn’t go outside during the day. As a sun worshipper and someone who loves her pool, this was highly concerning to my family. Instead, I would sit on my front porch late at night and well into the wee hours smoking cannabis and admiring my garden by soft torch light. I was at peace between 11:00 pm and 3:00 am because not many people were out and about meaning I didn’t have to communicate with anyone… just sit and smoke my joints one after another.
Eventually, I remembered about the fence. I sent Donald’s wife, Carine an email stating that I knew the fence needed replacing and that I’d be contacting service providers for quotes and would get back to them (likely) in early spring. I did not receive a response and completely forgot I had sent the email. I reached out to several companies in 2020 but was unsuccessful at finding anyone to come and provide me with any quotes. It seemed I had to reach out to people in the winter to schedule any work for spring. In the meantime, my husband added boards on the fence to ensure it did not fall over. He drilled wooden 5-foot length boards across the top and bottom of the wood fence for additional support.
In June 2019, Donald updated the light fixtures on the front of his house to super bright LEDs that no longer had a back or side cover making my nightly porch vigils impossible. In addition, Donald added a motion activated flood light over the side door of his garage. My porch and my little sitting perch are right between both lights. A few days after the lights were changed to ultra bright LEDs and the flood light set to a sensitive motion setting, I went over to Carine’s house with several bags of clothes my son had outgrown. While we were chatting, I mentioned that the fence needed either repair or replacement and I told her I would follow up and send her an email. She said “Sure! No problem! While I was at it, I also inquired about the possibility of perhaps changing the light back to what it was, blacking out the side and back (please) because it hits me square in the face while sitting in my living room, thus causing migraines. I also asked if they could turn down the sensitivity on the motion sensor. Carine was very amenable and stated she’d ask Donald to take care of it. Satisfied, I went home.
A week later, the lights were now even brighter and stayed on until 4 a.m. I had taken photos because in the middle of the night, coming down for water, I definitely didn’t need any of my interior lights on – in fact, I thought I left a light on downstairs! Nope, it’s their front porch light and sitting on my sofa, I could easily read the titles on my vinyl records a few feet away. The brightness of the light would trigger daily migraines and in the morning, I asked Mr. GQ to please follow up with Donald and ask when the light bulb would be changed for a less “car headlight blinding” colour. Mr. GQ didn’t really want to go speak to Donald, but I was seriously not in any condition to be speaking to many people without crying, or checking out, or shaking, or, or, or…. I was terrified of everyone, and intimidated by Donald because of his size, the fact he always had his face in my backyard, peering over the fence when I had friends over, was alone in the yard, or what finally sent me over the edge, when he would be ogling my 12-year-old daughter while sunbathing. Even my sister notice while we were hanging out poolside with our kids just having wine, chatting, enjoying the day when all of a sudden Roxanne turned to me and said “Who the fuck, and why is that guy always looking over here?” I rolled my eyes and said, “He’s the creepy neighbour I told you about, that’s why I want a wooden privacy fence now, all the way up to the maximum height.”
When Mr. GQ came back inside from speaking to Donald that morning, not all was well, Mr. GQ looked livid. I already felt guilty for asking him to speak to Donald about the lights on my behalf and now Mr. GQ was super pissed about it. Donald flat out told him the lights would be staying because we “smoke weed.” What? In April 2018, cannabis was legalized in Canada and I had a prescription to grow my own supply. In 2018, I had grown 4 plants and at the time, my prescription was for 3 oz a month. During my recovery from surgery, my prescription was increased to 8 oz a month which was financially unfeasible and the reason I applied for a production license thru Health Canada. Once my PTSD diagnosis came in and I required more cannabis, my prescription was increased again to 15 oz a month. In 2018, I was paying $300 for 1.5 oz of medical cannabis – no way was I affording my full prescription.
Donald, Carine, Karen and Kyle were all fully aware of my diagnoses, I mean I’d been living here since July 2007 after all and I’m pretty open about my mental health. The fact that Donald was livid that we smoked weed was … kinda shocking to be honest. For one, Donald and Carine rarely picked up their dogs' shit and that smelled very ripe come spring. Both of the homes I’m sandwiched between are pretty hard core tobacco houses, so… what’s the difference? I hate the smell of tobacco, my kids have never been able to open their windows since we moved in to this house. The Karen and Kyle house was the party house and they’d entertain in their yard every weekend until super late… not a big deal, but Mr. GQ was on shift work at the time, so again… no one in my house could open a window. and I never complained… I figured they put up with me I put up with them, right? Wrong. I’d also never lived in a residential area because I was raised in a business, in the commercial area of town.
After the light incident I was even more terrified of my own shadow because now I needed to replace a fence and I didn’t want to fight with the neighbours. I just wanted my privacy and my right to enjoy my backyard, but the enjoyment of my own property was quickly ruined by 817¢Ï€ 7717$ Donald. I call him that now because of Covid. He gained like 40 pounds and in my own personal opinion, he should definitely consider a man-bra.
I’d just started seeing my psychiatrist in June of 2019 and he was adjusting my medication for severe depression and severe anxiety. Apparently, the constant shaking and upper lip sweat was due to constant panic attacks. I had no idea… it just felt like the inside of my body wouldn’t stop vibrating. After a month, I found myself on 30 mg of Cipralex, a dose 50% higher than clinically recommended and advised to consider adding Abilify to that cocktail. When I asked my psychiatrist about the side effects, number 1 was weight gain and my response became a hard no. I already have issues with my weight, and self esteem and he was on crack cocaine if he thought I was gonna gain back the now 45 pounds I’d worked hard to lose… not really, I just stopped eating after my colon cancer surgery.
At first, I stopped eating because everything gave me gas, everything hurt because there were just too many ingredients in a typical meal so I stuck to one egg, a slice of toast and an avocado for weeks. Then I got used to “Intermittent Fasting” as I call it. Works for me. Yes, I still eat that way… only some days I don’t eat at all and I’m 4 years out of my surgery. I’m terrified of gaining weight and waking up one day looking like HER. I’ll never ever let that happen. I’d kill myself first, so intermittent fasting it is.
While I was trying to unpack my life and figuring how I even found myself in the position I was in, I still had to deal with daily life … and my main panic of the moment was a fence. We had 5 broken posts, it was the middle of a Covid pandemic and now I couldn’t get anyone to come and attend my property or even give me a quote. I had to wait another year. I was seriously stressed out.
In October 2019, I decided to send them an email so I’d have a written record that I did try to deal with the fence. I never received a response to that email. When it seemed that relations were less tense, I mentioned I’d sent it to her. She said it was an email she didn’t use all that often, curious, I thought since it’s the email she uses for Donald’s business. [It’s also the EXACT same email they used to correspond when they finally hired a paralegal!].
Copy of the email I sent in October 2019:
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The contractor I ended up selecting came in $1,000 under all the others and he could fit me in at the beginning of the season, which came as a great relief to me. I was hoping for the fence to be installed before the pool opening so I could then plan my 15 cannabis plant locations. As stipulated in the Town’s By-Laws, I sent the quotes by registered mail to both Donald and Carine, along with the back neighbour. The original tentative date for the fence was to be early June. Three weeks later, in March the contractor returned my deposit and I found my address blackballed by all the contractors in my Region. I soon found out why… Carine and Donald had called my contractor on numerous occasions and threatened his business and livelihood if they touched the fence. They said they would take them to court, sue for trespassing, and destroy their family business. I had left the contact information on the quote I included because it never occurred to me that I lived next to fucking assholes.
The contractor told me he had been harassed by my neighbours and in the 3-page response letter, she details how many times she contacted them:
Once I
figured out I had been blackballed, I called the Town and complained about the
assholes’ actions next door. Yes, I was legitimately pissed off. I didn’t even
want them to pay for the whole fence, in fact, I just wanted to open a line of
dialogue. The complete opposite happened. In response to a QUOTE FOR A FENCE, I
received a 3-page letter outlining what dicks they are. Included are pertinent
and hilarious screenshots in this post so you can all read it too. For the record,
I have weeping tile in my yard which was installed when the pool went in
because our subdivision was built on a swamp. The two f&$#5@!& next door haven’t
figured out it’s a swamp yet… I’m not entirely sure why not… but probably
because they're not playing with a full deck.
For the record, whenever the fence needed repair, Donald disappeared and we ended up doing the work ourselves.
First quote and see attached photos of the fence leaning significantly thanks to a broken post and one of the boards holding my fence together:
