I'm Old & I'm crotchety. Back away.
The No Soliciting Sign.

There was a knock at the front door.   The door that welcomes you to my home with a brick path flanked by espaliered apple trees, fluttering moths and lazy streams of sunshine streaking across the grass.  My brick cottage is the kind of house that seems to sigh, Come on in, with the falling of every rose petal.

My house and I are very different. I just want people to screw off.

If I know you, that's one thing.  But if you walk up my pretty path looking to sell me, convince me, switch me or beg me you can either turn around and go away or prepare to get your ass kicked by a spinning and kicking tiny blonde blur.

 This is my house, my home.  It isn't a drop in centre for people who think I have money that I just don't want anymore.  

And no ... I don't make exceptions for charities.  I have my preferred charities and nothing makes me feel less charitable than you standing on my porch making me feel like an asshole because you aren't one of them.

Also if I wanted to switch cable providers do you know what I'd do?  I'd switch cable providers, on my own, from the comfort of my binge watching couch at 2:00 in the morning after having problems bringing up the latest season of Bridgerton. That is what I would do.

Years ago after a particularly curious encounter at my door I said this is stupid.  I'm old.  I'm allowed to do things old crotchety people would do.  I already save tin foil ... I'm halfway there to old person crazy.

I sat down and whipped up a No Soliciting sign.  It had lots of swear words and I guess if taken out of context could possibly have been viewed as a hate crime, but only towards people with fake laminated badges.  I wrote something about strangling, burying, and Kombucha strangely enough.  

 Luckily, just when I was about to laminate it, I decided to take another, less aggressive crack at it.  I mean I'm old and crotchety, but I'm not that old and crotchety.

And this is what I came up with.

 Download one of the PDFs below to print your own

(Canadian spelling version)

(American spelling version)

That scrappy laminated sign stayed on my fence for years with almost everyone who walked past reading it and laughing.

It eventually withered away and I took it down.

That's when they started to come back. The ringers, the knockers and the hawkers. I'm an actual old grown up person now so this week I upgraded and ordered this.

A $20 brass no soliciting sign It makes me feel like a bit of an asshead but at least I'm a classy brassy asshead who can watch Bridgerton in peace without risk of an arrest warrant.