A room with a view

I have opened my kitchen window as wide as possible to inhale the beauty of springtime. The tulips buds are still tightly wrapped in their protective cocoon of leaves. Too smart to play into the hands of Mother Nature’s cruel sense of humor. They bide their time. Blooming only when it is safe. I planted all the bulbs out front where I can enjoy them. You see, time spent at the kitchen sink in front of the window occupies 80% of my day. Since the tulips aren’t quite out yet, I enjoy the view of my neighbors house.
Sanford and Son alá Deutschland.

One of the two camping trailers was mercifully hidden all winter behind a large green tarp. But alas, with the emergence of the tulips, comes the emergence of the trailers. Which are parked directly across from my driveway making it difficult, but not impossible for me to back out. Unfortunately, they are not parked strategically enough to block my view of their front yard. We’ll start with the enormous medieval wrought iron gate they attached to the side of their house in front of their kitchen window. It is, (and I know this because I asked) to keep out cat burglars. Behind the “gate” are eight plastic Santa head Christmas lights strung across their kitchen window. Hanging on the outside of the medieval monstrosity are two climbing garden gnomes, a tangled up black extension cord, and assorted broken wind-spinner lawn decorations. Moving to the front stoop, a life size parrot hangs. He has seen better days. His colors are dismally faded, his wings tattered. A birdcage containing what I think to be a broken terra-cotta rooster hangs next to it.
Another life size animal - this one a black cat with white paws - climbs up something they have attached to the house. Possibly made of wrought iron, I’m not sure. Two plastic garbage cans, one black, one brown, are the perfect thing to hold up the items they have “stored” against their house. For instance, the rusty rack from an old dishwasher would certainly topple over if not for the stability of the garbage cans. As would the five foot by three foot piece of wood.
There is a large red rectangular bucket with the crusty remains of a paint job (white) complete with roller and brush. Various planters filled with dead plants. A large green tarp (they like those) has thankfully been removed from the woodpile and both have been relocated to the back of their house. There is a metal step stool, a huge green top to a garbage can - but no can, a few umbrellas, a large concrete lion wearing a red Christmas bow, a bench, a terra-cotta rooster - possibly the mate to the one trapped in the bird cage, and cinder blocks. There is more. In between all the stuff and things are smaller things. But I can‘t see them from my window, what a shame.
So, as I stand in my open kitchen window drinking in the beauty of spring, the theme song to Sanford and Son plays over and over in my head.