THE REDNECK WELDER NEXT DOOR

OK, so the guy who owns the house next door moved away three years ago and tried to sell it, but the market was just beginning its decline and so he ended up renting it instead. Loved the first couple. They were there only a year and then the next couple -- i never met the wife -- came and went in under four months. When we got home from Maui in August there was "Welder Dude."

It was clear from the beginning they weren't going to be "neighborhood people." They partied late into the evening and then there were all the trucks. The yard died. Welding went on at all hours. And one Sunday afternoon, as I stood at my kitchen sink, a huge rusted iron structured appeared above the fence. I later learned this eyesore is a "welder hoist" so Welder Dude can remove the machine from the bed of his truck if he wants to.

Shortly after the welder hoist appeared, a huge iron mesh trailer -- I swear it was the length and height of a semi trailer -- arrived in his driveway. It sat there a week and then on the street for two weeks before the BPD service tech came and cited him. The next day it was back in his drivway where it stayed, and stayed and stayed.

Now I was getting a little grumbly about Welder Dude and his odd assortment of cronies and their comings and going at all hours. So I talked to God about it. One morning, as Thanksgiving drew near, I realized I needed to tamp down my resentment so I decided to be an elf to the 3 year old red-haired girl I saw there occasionally during the 12 days of Christmas.

So Brian and I bought cool three-year-old appropriate girl things that I can't get for my grandsons. A tiara and wand, sparlky dress up shoes, little animals and dolls were among the treasures we chose. And then we stopped at Lowe's and picked up a dozen "S" hooks. If that trailer was going to live in the driveway next door, I might as well hang gifts on it!

The 12th night before Christmas arrived and I placed the gift bag with the tiara in it into a white kitchen trash bag, sealed it up tight with a bow and hooked it to the trailer. I did the same thing the next night and the next and the next. As I left the house on the 4th morning I saw that the gift was still there, in the pooring rain, with what looked like a rain-soaked note. I didn't stop, but figured I had freaked Welder Dude out, because he didn't seem like the kind of guy who came from a background where getting anonymous gifts on your doorstep, or your eyesore of a trailer, was comonplace.

Sure enough, when I got home, all the things we had given so far were stuffed into the last gift bag with a note that said, "This is Stacy, Eric's fiance(Ah ha! So his name isn't Welder Dude!). Gracie will not receive these gifts until we know who you are and then ONLY (double uderlined) if we approve of your identity!"

So I dried off and packed up all the things in a fresh bag and wrote them a one page letter telling them who I am, what I did and what I do and explained why I had started this tradition of "elfing" a family at Christmas. I gave them my phone number and told them they could call the church if they needed references. I took the sealed-against-rain bag with the note inside and hung it on the trailer.

The next morning it was gone. That afternoon I wandered over to Welder Dude's house (they were in the driveway and the garage, where they always are) and asked them if I could assume I was approved. I was indeed, deemed acceptable.

Ten days later the trailer was gone. Last week I learned that Welder Dude is a parolee. There's probably a lesson in here somewhere. I'll let you know if I figure out what it is.