The husband left the house at 5:00 AM, this morning to go fishing with a friend. Last night I threatened him with bodily harm if he woke me up, so I was actually able to sleep in until 7:00. After I had my first cup of coffee, fed and walked the dog, I settled in my office with more coffee to read the news online and check out new blog posts, etc.
The office is at the front of the house, and there is a big window that lets in a lot of sunlight, so the office is always bright and toasty in the mornings. While I’m reading about a father and son who bagged a 700 lb wild hog in North Carolina, I hear voices coming from out front of the house. When I look out the window, I see my 70 year old neighbors romping around their front yard. Anything is possible on our cul de sac.
There are 7 houses on the cul de sac (I’m #7), and we all know each other and hang out together, you know, like barbeques and fire pit gatherings, or an occasional beer on the front porch type of thing. Well, house #6 are the Hindu’s, and they are a nice couple, but I think we’re too rowdy for them, so we don’t see them much, and the guy that lives in #1 (with his cats) is in witness protection or a vampire. He puts his garbage and recycle bins out (and in) under the cover of darkness. We know he’s alive, but we NEVER see him. The romping 70 year olds are in #2, and they don’t hang out with #5 anymore unless it’s a large gathering; a little bit of tension there. My husband says it’s because #5’s wife is too candid and he thinks I should take note and become a little nicer. I interpret that as being disingenuous, but my husband says that being nicer means bite my tongue more often than not. Hey, I get along with all of the neighbors, so I must not be ALL bad. That’s another story…anyway.
Curiosity got the better of me, so I grabbed my coffee and nonchalantly walked out on my front porch to see what all the romping was about. Well, it seems that “Greased Lightening” got out again. Greased lightening (GL) is my name for their new tea cup yorkie puppy. He weighs in at 2 lbs (1 kilo) and when they open the door leading into their garage, GL comes out of the shoot like a race horse. Most of us on the cul de sac leave our garage doors open, kind of like a welcome mat, so the puppy has become an escape artist. Now, the #2 wife has diabetic neuropathy and can’t feel her feet anymore, and #2 husband has a bad knee which gives out on him occasionally. So I hold my breath while watching them try to corral the puppy.
One evening, #5’s wife, returned GL after she saw something scurrying around in their garage. It seems #2’s husband went out to throw something in the garage recycle bin, and never saw GL make his great escape. When #5’s wife knocked on their door and handed over GL, she said she was returning their hamster (see, candid). #2 wife told #5 wife that she couldn’t imagine how GL got out, “we were just watching him”. #5 wife said, “obviously not, he was in the front yard”.
#7 (me) heard this story from #5 & #2 on separate occasions. I was telling my husband about it, and he said he hoped I was nice. I am ALWAYS nice, geesh 🙄