Two week-ends, two moving vans, one furniture store delivery, one appliance store delivery and just like that, the foreclosed house across the street has new residents. And that means that I have new neighbors.
Knowing me like you do, friendly - gracious - kind, you probably believe I've been over there with house-warming gifts and full meals. I'm sure you think I must be the greatest neighbor ever to lend a hand like that...
...wait. Who are we talking about here? Me?? I'm all confused!
Of course I've haven't been over. Haven't delivered one cookie or one good wish. WHY??
It's all the old neighbors' fault. You see, for the last decade that house has been occupied by an entire Eastern European nation. Countless generations have moved through that house at all hours of the day and night. Dozens and dozens and dozens of them have arrived in their late model European import cars and greeted each other very loudly. They've said good-bye at 2 A.M. each MONDAY morning and hugged and yelled and beeped horns and yelled some more. They've refused to acknowledge that I've smiled and said hello as we cross paths on the sidewalk. On multiple occasions, they've begun building projects complete with whining saws beginning at midnight - outside on the front lawn. They've driven far over the speed limit through our sub. Cut the corners way too closely and quickly as I attempted to get through the intersections. Repeatedly parked in front of other houses so that those residents had no where for their own guests to park. AND failed to fix their brakes causing them to frequently use their other cars as stopping blocks.
I'll admit, it doesn't sound so bad now, but it is going to take me a minute or two to see just who these new neighbors are. The police have been over there once already, so we'll see. In the meantime, I'll be figuring out which cookies to make as a house-warming gift - because that's just who I am. Kind of.