The Southerner who had voted for the winning candidate in a primary election and who was interviewed today on an NPR newscast said of the Gospel-singer victor, “I know Gospel singers, and there are some real stinkers among them, but [the winner] is not one of them.”
And then there are other ladies about whom such warm laughter comes not so easily.
Take the landlady of the land adjacent to the western side of our property. She is stealing our electricity by refusing to pay for what her farmer tenant uses.
Background: It’s not just a simple situation. See, the water for our house and for our neighbor’s barn (our house and the barn used to belong together) is pumped from a spring on the adjacent land. The pump is powered by electricity from the neighbor’s barn, and the barn’s electricity–for the pump, which the barn and we share, as well as for whatever else the farmer wants to use it for–comes from our house, through our meter. This means that we pay for whatever electricity the farmer uses. Unfortunately, short of us installing our own pump and water line, which we have rights to do per our deed (even though the western landowner has told us, “You will not put in a new line to the spring”), there is no way for us to separate completely the barn’s and our energy consumption.
More background: Probably for years past, and certainly since we moved in fifteen months ago, the western landowner has not paid any money towards the electricity consumed by the barn in this arrangement. According to her, everything the farmer does with the electricity “doesn’t draw any current.” She never offered–and refused when asked–to compensate us even a little bit for any of it.
Even more background: In the last months, the western landowner agreed to obtain her own power supply for the barn, with us continuing to power the pump for our house and the barn until we install a water line (that connects to the current line, mind you, not to the spring itself) and pump just for us. Neither of us has followed through.
Now, as I’ve mentioned before, she is an interesting person to deal with. She used to own much of the land around here (including our house) and in her mind she still does. She’s sort of a localized Scarlett O’Hara.
So here is my western landowner diary entry (yes, I keep a log of our interactions) for today:
This morning a representative from our electricity cooperative telephoned regarding an unrelated issue, then said that she asked him to mention to us that since creating her own electrical hookup and account would require her to hire an electrician for some barn rewiring and would cost her a minimum $20 monthly account fee, she would be just as happy to pay the $20 per month to us and leave the electrical arrangement as it is.
I thanked the gentleman, then called she. She was agreeable in every sense of the word, and suggested she pay in four-month installments.
All good, right?
Wrong.
Two minutes later she called back to ask if she could start paying the first of the month.
“You mean September?” I said.
“Yes, since he’s not using any current now anyway,” she said.
“He is using his electric fence,” I said.
“That doesn’t draw any current,” she said.
I reluctantly agreed to a September 1 start date, but soon found myself fuming. The $20 (minus her previous tenant’s plowing and mowing for us) she should have paid us for each of the months we’ve lived here already wasn’t even really the issue. It was the irresponsibility of her not even offering or acknowledging that it would be just for her to pay for the electricity she and her tenant have been using at our expense that has had me fed up ever since we’ve moved in.
I decided not to be a pushover. I called her back.
“Would you consider adding $10 to the September payment to pay for the second half of August, too?” I asked. “Since the farmer is using electricity?”
“No, I wouldn’t. That electric fence isn’t drawing any current, and I want to keep the payments monthly. And besides, the $20 is more than we’re using anyway.”
[Now, this very well may be the case. I plan to reconsider the ethics of accepting that amount after I feel she’s paid off the electricity she’s already not paid for, and after I’ve done some metering to see just how much current does in fact go to the barn.]
“He has been using the fence all summer,” I said. (I didn’t mention the radio he keeps also on as a theft deterrent sound polluter, which probably costs us fifty or maybe just five cents a month.) “You decide.”
“Yes, I’ll decide, and whatever I decide will be fine,” she said.
I thanked her and hung up.
Good grief!
I’ll believe and be extremely grateful for the reimbursement money from her when it starts coming, and I’ll feel justified in accepting it.
And sooner or later I’ll find a way to humor this obstinate woman in a way that is both respectful to her and satisfying to my sense of justice.