Neighbour complaing about the 'thud' noise of my treadle feeder. I'm thinking of ...

[Kellow1]

Yep! Unfortunately, I live on a corner block where one neighbour never complains whilst the other always does. Well, recently she hasn't complained because my dog is old and rarely barks. The only neighbours who are safe from her complaints are people who don't have dogs or children, (she has a reputation) unless you make any unnecessary noise like a sprinkler hitting the fence, or you put a bin too close to her house (It was on my side of the fence!), etc. The stories I could tell! Anyway, I'm making preparations to acquiring 6 chickens (mostly raised from eggs) and she won't be happy about my new pets but, as the council was impressed with my setup last time, she won't be able to cause problems.
Though, last time, I had to prop up the lid of my treadle feeders because she was complaining about the sound the lid makes when it comes down. So, I put in rubber inserts but she still complained about the 'thud' sounds it makes. Thus, having to prop up the lid defeating the whole purpose of the treadle feeders & money spent on them! I'm thinking of somehow installing some sort of hydraulic/pneumatic cabinet door jambs or whatever you call them to reduce the sound further. What do you guys think? Any better ideas? It's going to be difficult drilling through the stainless steel plus it will probably go rusty after being outside for a while. Maybe not such a good idea. Maybe just leave as is or sell them & just build one of those feeders made out of pvc. Any ideas or suggestions? Anyone?

Find something around your house that makes more noise! This will distract your neighbor from the "thud".

 

[Al Gerhart]

If the OP would post some pictures I might be able to advise a way of adding a soft close. It is a long shot if it is one of the Chinese made feeders like the grandpa feeder or the many clones but you never know. She said stainless steel so it might be a local English brand.

 

[tlcmurphy]

If the OP would post some pictures I might be able to advise a way of adding a soft close. It is a long shot if it is one of the Chinese made feeders like the grandpa feeder or the many clones but you never know. She said stainless steel so it might be a local English brand.

OP hasn’t been on BYC since just after this post a year ago

 

[Bawkbok]

Geez, I hope nothing bad happened to them as a result of the thudding problem......
It seems like many of us stuck having neighbors have at least one nasty one to contend with. We had one that hated the sound of birds singing. Who doesn't like to hear bird song in the morning?
Instead of talking to us like a "normal" person would, she would write her nasty notes on a sheet of paper and stick it to a long pole and face it in our yard as her method of communication or shall I say complaining.
She's moved on, but now it's worse than it was with her with the replacements.
What is wrong with people that they have to be all up in your stuff all the time? Why can't they live and let live?

 

[FrostRanger]

Geez, I hope nothing bad happened to them as a result of the thudding problem......
It seems like many of us stuck having neighbors have at least one nasty one to contend with. We had one that hated the sound of birds singing. Who doesn't like to hear bird song in the morning?
Instead of talking to us like a "normal" person would, she would write her nasty notes on a sheet of paper and stick it to a long pole and face it in our yard as her method of communication or shall I say complaining.
She's moved on, but now it's worse than it was with her with the replacements.
What is wrong with people that they have to be all up in your stuff all the time? Why can't they live and let live?

What did she even want you to do about the birds singing? Wild birds do and go wherever they please. If birdsong bothers her so much, move to the desert where there are fewer songbirds

 

[Appalachickens]

Geez, I hope nothing bad happened to them as a result of the thudding problem......
It seems like many of us stuck having neighbors have at least one nasty one to contend with. We had one that hated the sound of birds singing. Who doesn't like to hear bird song in the morning?
Instead of talking to us like a "normal" person would, she would write her nasty notes on a sheet of paper and stick it to a long pole and face it in our yard as her method of communication or shall I say complaining.
She's moved on, but now it's worse than it was with her with the replacements.
What is wrong with people that they have to be all up in your stuff all the time? Why can't they live and let live?

Whoa - notes on a pole? Yeah, that's not crazy at all. I tell you what, you are making me glad I have no neighbors that I can see from my house!

 

[NetherLeeFarm]

In all seriousness, i wouldn't worry about her complaints. The more you adjust, the more they find to complain about.

I totally agree with this. I have two treadle feeders like yours and I think the thunk noise occurs when a hen jumps on and the lid 'thunks' open. It's very minimal and this person obviously has much bigger problems totally unrelated to a chicken feeder. I'd not bother with fixing it.

I had a similar neighbor once. We avoid her as much as possible and whenever she tried to talk to us, so sorry but we absolutely had to be somewhere and need to run. Honestly, I'd just play the avoidance game with this person. They'll never get over it so may as well just ignore them and move on.

 

[BigBlueHen53]

Every response to this OP has been negative. Do it back to her and do it worse. She's the one with the problem, she needs to get a life, move away, etc. The one comment I read about offering her eggs was to the effect that she's a Karen and doesn't deserve them. Not one person that I saw thought that maybe she is sad, sick, lonely or in pain and could use a friend. What's wrong with offering her a dozen eggs or a plate of cookies or inviting her over to meet the chickens and see how the feeder actually works? Maybe she's autistic and sensitive to sounds. Sometimes we just need to remember to walk a mile in the other person's moccasins.

 

[Al Gerhart]

sometimes killing them with kindness works but rarely.

Allow me to tell a story. Used to play in a pool league from a tiny hole in the wall country bar. Rough place, rough men, the regulars were safe but you never knew what kind of trash would come in looking to start a brawl. A favorite way was to cheat at the pool table or to be rude playing.

When practicing one night the system was to set your set of quarters in line with the others in front of you, everyone kept track of who was next. So I'm next and this young punk swaggers in and lays down two quarters at the tail end of a line of maybe five sets of quarters.

Winner holds the table, loser sits down at the end of the game and the next person in line plays. Except punk man/child steps up knowing he is jumping line at least five people and racks the balls. Everyone looks at me, knowing I'm next. I just wink at them and motion to stay cool. The guy is a good player and wins the table, I'm up next.

I rack the balls very tight, he gets a poor break and starts swearing. Me, I am not the best shot in the league but I am an expert at position playing, where you take your shot and sink a ball or not, you leave the ball in the worst possible location for your opponent. Hiding behind other balls, making it hard for him to make the next shot.

Mr punk boy is pissed as I slowly sink a couple of balls, then "miss" a shot, leaving my ball blocking the only pocket he had a shot at. He slams a shot, scattering balls all over, a very poor way to play, uncontrolled, risky.

Now usually you play friendly games, you hide your light under a basket so to speak. Play just hard enough to win but not hard enough to give away your true talents or piss people off. You show your stuff at the tournaments, not before. But not this time, punk boy had scattered the balls around the table and I start slamming the rest of my balls into the pockets, never leaving him a shot in case I missed a shot. Perfect position, with the cue ball never stopping where he had a shot but I always had an easy shot. I ran the table, dropped the eight ball. And just stood up and looked at him. Everyone is looking at him. They know I am pissed off and just wiped the floor with him. The dude is humiliated. He nods, walks out the door. He was an *ss, came in looking for a fight, and learned he provoked his way into a butt whoopin. Now that is how most men roll. This Karen in the OP's story, different kind of person.

Moral of the story. You don't stop bullies by turning the other cheek. You have to humiliate them, give it to them worse than they gave to you or others. You show grace, give them the turn, then play with them, then wipe the floor with them, and they will usually acknowledge their defeat and leave with what dignity they had left.

Humiliate them from the high ground. Anything else doesn't stop them. People know when they are being jerks. Call them out, let Jesus do the forgiving at another time and another place.

 

[BigBlueHen53]

sometimes killing them with kindness works but rarely.

Allow me to tell a story. Used to play in a pool league from a tiny hole in the wall country bar. Rough place, rough men, the regulars were safe but you never knew what kind of trash would come in looking to start a brawl. A favorite way was to cheat at the pool table or to be rude playing.

When practicing one night the system was to set your set of quarters in line with the others in front of you, everyone kept track of who was next. So I'm next and this young punk swaggers in and lays down two quarters at the tail end of a line of maybe five sets of quarters.

Winner holds the table, loser sits down at the end of the game and the next person in line plays. Except punk man/child steps up knowing he is jumping line at least five people and racks the balls. Everyone looks at me, knowing I'm next. I just wink at them and motion to stay cool. The guy is a good player and wins the table, I'm up next.

I rack the balls very tight, he gets a poor break and starts swearing. Me, I am not the best shot in the league but I am an expert at position playing, where you take your shot and sink a ball or not, you leave the ball in the worst possible location for your opponent. Hiding behind other balls, making it hard for him to make the next shot.

Mr punk boy is pissed as I slowly sink a couple of balls, then "miss" a shot, leaving my ball blocking the only pocket he had a shot at. He slams a shot, scattering balls all over, a very poor way to play, uncontrolled, risky.

Now usually you play friendly games, you hide your light under a basket so to speak. Play just hard enough to win but not hard enough to give away your true talents or piss people off. You show your stuff at the tournaments, not before. But not this time, punk boy had scattered the balls around the table and I start slamming the rest of my balls into the pockets, never leaving him a shot in case I missed a shot. Perfect position, with the cue ball never stopping where he had a shot but I always had an easy shot. I ran the table, dropped the eight ball. And just stood up and looked at him. Everyone is looking at him. They know I am pissed off and just wiped the floor with him. The dude is humiliated. He nods, walks out the door. He was an *ss, came in looking for a fight, and learned he provoked his way into a butt whoopin. Now that is how most men roll. This Karen in the OP's story, different kind of person.

Moral of the story. You don't stop bullies by turning the other cheek. You have to humiliate them, give it to them worse than they gave to you or others. You show grace, give them the turn, then play with them, then wipe the floor with them, and they will usually acknowledge their defeat and leave with what dignity they had left.

Humiliate them from the high ground. Anything else doesn't stop them. People know when they are being jerks. Call them out, let Jesus do the forgiving at another time and another place.

That's a great story and I love it, Al. Well played in all aspects. But there's a big difference here. In your scenario, Smartypants had the opportunity to take his wounded pride in hand and walk out the door, never to be seen again. In OP's situation, however, her grumpy neighbor is someone she has to live with indefinitely. It just seems to me that diplomacy is the better part of valor here, as opposed to one-up-manship, which only opens the door to resentment and further escalation. But ... yeah, that's just me.