life in a cul-de-sac can be pretty dull. nothing much ever happens. no fast cars race up and down our street. cats aren’t flattened and their claws shredded off. people say hello and gift garden vegetables (adam’s currently working on 3 foot cucumbers to give away). you wash your car in the driveway, you keep up with the neighborhood gossip.
and then new neighbors move in and the nightmare commences. they have a dog. sure, he’s very friendly when you rescue him because you’re driving home and find him wandering loose halfway down the block. but he’s also a barker. a loud barker. at 3 AM. not as loud as the car alarm which takes every opportunity to go off in the wee hours of the morning when dawn is just breaking over the horizon and one is nowhere near contemplating arising.
the old neighbors, i also disliked in general, but these new neighbors are a breed apart. at least the old neighbors had been around since i was 3 years old. at least them i knew. one of the grandsons turned purple in my backyard after tying rope around his neck and the top of the slide and then going down. adam and i spent precious moments watching his face mottle before i ran to get my parents. another grandson who came every summer with his younger brother we adored and picked up texan accents from within a matter of days which we put to beneficial use playing cowboys. then there was the incident just last year with the great-granddaughter and the cat punk/J.C. i hated her, sure enough, but i like punk. adam was a pall-bearer at the grandfather’s funeral who died equidistant between my grandfather and my father. the point is that i had history with the former tenants. and now these new people with their dogs and their cars. this is going to take some getting used to.
