I’m a Window Watcher

Here’s what’s happening in my neighborhood.

• Neighbor 1, right next door. The old guy next door takes  exceptional, daily care of his lawn, so that the hedgerow lines are razor sharp, and one could probably measure each individual blade of grass and come up with the same data. He and my dog, Bender, have an interesting relationship that I still can’t quite figure out after 3 1/2 years of living here. I think they like each other, but I’m not sure. He likes to egg her on, and in response Bender barks, thrashes her head and foams at the mouth. I used to call her in, thinking she was annoying the man, but a few times, he’s waved me off, indicating that my insane dog is fine, and he’s just having fun with her. Also, I have only seen the man’s wife one time… she’s just not well. I wonder if tending to the lawn is meditative for him, an escape.

 

• Neighbor 2, across the street. I can barely see their house, so I can’t tell you much! The bushes out front look like they will eventually eat the house, leaving nothing but a few shingles, and perhaps a metal piece or two from the giant radio tower that I assume is used for hobby. They have a camper, so must take trips, but I’ve never seen them packing up and going anywhere. Very little activity, really, although I did once see the lady shuffle to the mailbox in her bathrobe.

 

• Neighbor 3 is my favorite. I will tell you, I am absolutely dying to know the scoop on the two-story house (in a neighborhood full of ranch homes) that is across the street, kind of diagonal to us. Never seen the parents, I don’t think. They have a teenage boy, who is some kind of hoodlum. He once brazenly asked my husband, who was out mowing the lawn, for a cigarette. As if! I’ve seen him walking around the neighborhood with his hood rat friends and hoochy little teenage girls. But not in awhile, because I think they shipped him off somewhere. For the longest time, the Sherriff’s Department would pull up to this house—never just one car, always at least two, and the cops would go inside to investigate. Every couple of weeks. I’m assuming some sort of domestic issue(s)? Then, one time, a CSI van accompanied the Sherriff’s Department. They brought a computer out and hauled it away. I saw nothing on Dateline that covered this incident, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to know every juicy detail! The Sherriff’s Department visits continued regularly,until finally, a big white van parked across the street. One of the little hoochies was outside talking to… the father? Looked like a serious sort of conversation. A few white trash bags were taken to the van, full of clothing, one would presume, and then was gone. Haven’t seen the kid since.