EMILY PRATT SLATIN

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She/Her/Hers Lesbian

Retired Career Fire and EMS Lieutenant-Specialist, Writer, and Master Photographer, living in Vermont.

Fuck The Neighbors

November 10, 2026—Stamford, New York (Mom's House)

Amelia drove out to the farm with her Bronco filled to the ceiling with cardboard from her vacation house in Buffalo. As soon as she arrived, I looked into blue eyes and gave her a long hug. We then spent the next several minutes putting the cardboard into the dumpster at the farm.

Yesterday when she was already on her drive over, I received a frantic phone call from Chase about someone coming onto moms property with chainsaws. His father who was working on Mom’s carriage house had recorded a video of people climbing to the top of the trees with large chainsaws. I told Chase to get ahold of his father, and I was going to call my friends.

I ended up calling the police in Stamford and they were on scene immediately. Mom’s trees were safe. They were, after all, on my property, clearly. The workers had to cross a fence to access them, and were clearly on my side of the property line. Instead of arresting anyone, including the workers, I asked that the police inform everyone that they could not enter my property and that work on my trees needed to stop.

And so yesterday by text and a phone call to the neighbor’s landlord, I informed everyone that removal of moms trees would result in a lawsuit that my wife and I would absolutely file. This is my late Mother’s house. It is also the place where I grew up. It means the world to me and if people don’t share my love and enthusiasm for the place, the least the could do is respect mine.

Amelia and I privately discussed the possibility of pursuing the matter through the courts. The word railroad was used exactly once.

She left this morning to go back to Mom’s house for the night, visit Makayla, and discuss more of our estate planning, which involves leaving Mom’s house to Makayla in our will. In the meantime, we are allowing her to stay in the front bedroom adjoining mine.

I packed my things as I waited for the FedEx delivery of Makayla’s new Leica Q3 before taking a slow stroll through my the house. I’m going to miss the farm. It’s home now. But I know that adventure with Makayla awaits. Sometimes the first step of any adventure is acknowledging that there will be homesickness before leaving on one’s journey.

When I arrived at Mom’s house, I sent Nora a text to let her know that I’d made it. Makayla, Nora, and I went to the Bel shortly after, and there was hardly anyone there. Later in the evening, we stopped by for a few drinks at John’s before going back to Mom’s house where we all stayed up until one in the morning laughing while Amelia slept.

We have collectively adopted the opinion of fuck the neighbors.