Our Neighbors

I don't know if it's because I've been home more this year or what - well I'm pretty sure it's because I've been home more this year - but I have become very aware of our neighbors. Far more than in the five years previous that we've lived in this house. And they are a fascinating group. Fascinating in the way a train wreck is fascinating. You don't want to look, but you kind of have to. Just a little bit. And it really is as horrible as you knew it was going to be, but you still look. Yes, our neighbors are exactly like train wrecks. And I suppose we shouldn't be amused by their sorry situations; most of the time we aren't, really we aren't. We try and be neighborly, saying hi, learning their names, trading mail, taking cake and/or cookies over, the usual. It's not suburbia but we make do. But there are times when it's like another planet next door. With the screaming and the expletives - it's like they only know twelve words and nine of them aren't allowed on television - and the anger, and the dire threats. And then just as suddenly...nothing. Or the weirder times are when they go from calling the police to calling each other "Pumpkin" and "Baby" inside of fifteen minutes. Let me take this moment to assure you we do not eavesdrop, or attempt to meddle with their interactions, we don't want to know what is going on over there most of the time, but they are just so dang loud! It's easier in the winter when we can close the windows. Summer, there's no escaping it. And when football season comes watch out! College, professional, it matters not. We never know if they are happy or upset since the profanity is the same volume and intensity either way.
And yet, when we talk to them there is no indicator that they lead this other life. They're polite, they don't profane or curse, though we have never mentioned it, they act happy though two minutes ago they were ready to press assault charges. It's never dull.

This is me, with a flavorful neighborhood.