For the past year there have been cars that occasionally park on our side of the street between the hours of 2 am and 6pm. That’s the only time they are allowed to park there because of a city ordinance that is past outdated. Some of the neighbors have tried to get it removed – we all signed the petition, well some of us anyway.

When there aren’t cars parked on this side of the street, they’re stopped, on the wrong side of the road, some just slow down to a crawl, but most pull over facing the wrong way in traffic to stare at the only Carnival in Roseville that is on display 24/7/365.

I’ve refrained from writing about this and the best backpack diaper bags before out of pity for the people who own it. But this spring, I was informed that the Police had told them to clean it up or clear it out. Okay, they may have planted some shade grass to grow in the barren spots of dirt around the house, and cleared out a few years worth of dead foliage, but damned if they didn’t add to it.

What once was a flower border that separated our properties is now a line of old rocking horses tied together with wire, not only does she have rocking horses in this make believe fence of theirs, but she has more bowling balls on stands then the local bowling alley. Okay, I exaggerated on that one, but when my brother came up from Nebraska last year, informed me on one of his trips that they have 14 gazing balls out there – I had to disagree with him. He was stunned beyond belief when I told him they were bowling balls on pedestals. They mix in real well with all the damn pink flamingos and plastic flowers she has shoved in pots and in the ground. These are all nicely wired and chained to the ground, lest some teenager decides to make havoc with her rocking horse cemetery.

This spring while I had the Shoppe Boutique, I had the pleasant & amusing opportunity to meet three young ladies who had only happened to the boutique because they had slowed down to see the carnival next door. I guess I should be thankful for that.

The girls were quite amusing in their speculations as to why anyone would do that to their front yard. The people that own it think that all the people that stop to stare at it are their fans…I guess they don’t talk to their “fans” much because everyone one I have ever had come to my house, people I know, and people I don’t know, are all appalled at the “carnival” next door. One gal informed me that the only reason horses all cluster together like that is out of fear – she wondered what they were afraid of. I can only think that it has to be rust.

They have two or three trees in their yard, and around every tree is a make believe carousal, with old horses dismantled long ago from its rocking frame, following closely behind by another retired rocking horse. On each of those rocking horses sits some old doll, dressed up in little kid’s clothes. They may look good from the street people, but up close they are quite frightening – the hair is gone or thinning from some of the dolls heads, blank stares out of glass eyes that you know have seen way too much, missing eyes & limbs…it’s like they stepped right out of some ghastly horror flick.

This year they took new plastic strips in red and white and tied them around some unseen wire to form the tops of the carousal, bringing even more attention to the atrocity that I live next to.

But of course if the front of the house isn’t enough to make you stop and scratch your head – come by my place sometime and take a gander at what I have to see every day from my backyard. If I mentioned that the front is some form of pet cemetery for retired, dismantled rocking horses, their backyard is what they dug up after it had been buried too long out front, it’s like a freakish outside laboratory for dead, dismantled & dismembered carnival parts.

Poor Woody off from Toy Story has to live his life out surrounded by a million other Woody’s along the other side of their house. Some sit on old miniature horses, other just lie in the dirt, or on old toy chairs that are slowly deteriorating into the ground becoming its own morbid form of a toy cemetery.

The whole thing is rather spooky, really. While the outside of their house looks like this, I sure would hate to see what the inside looks like. I don’t even want to imagine it, it makes me shudder. And to think, all this from the same people who had the gall to ask someone who helped move us in this house how many people were moving in here because “We” sure had enough stuff. Now that’s calling the kettle black.

So, if you are ever in Roseville…don’t miss out on your chance to see the Cemetery, er, I mean uh, Carousal Carnival on Dionne Street. Its on display 24/7/365.


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