So my neighbor who lives in the house opposite side of the lane from us is pretty nice. She has a bunch of nice dogs and she lets me pet them through the fence, and every time Kadupul blooms, she gives me a flower. We’ll call her family The Es.
The ones I can’t stand, live next door to The Es. Let’s call them The Ts. They are the ones making a trip around the house , even though their front door faces away from us towards the main road, to stand on their porch and peer through the trees above their garden wall, every time, we have a visitor. Even if it’s my father. The weirdest thing is, they don’t leave until the visitors leave. If the visitors are here to stay for a while, they make routine trips round the house to peer at ours. What. The. Hell.
We’ve been here almost two years and you know what. Their behavior is pissing me off. But let’s not look at the fact that I am a coward and I will never confront them about it.
When my mother was with us here, she’d sit by the window in the living room, and I’d open our front doors and sit on the steps while I DIYed. We had a pretty good time doing this, chatting and drinking tea and my mother trying to teach me to sew. And The Ts could be seen through the trees over the garden wall, standing, listening to our conversations. And pretending to prune their damn trees.
Sometimes my father sends me a massive amount of vegetables, or fruits, or dried fish. I think it has something to do with him panicking every once a month or so wondering if I know how to shop for my groceries. Dad, not to worry, I learned from the best. You pay whatever the price asked, and even if you can buy the same thing cheaper, you don’t because, well, you don’t think it’s necessary. I’ve got it OK.
So what I do when my dad sends me an amount of food me and my husband alone can’t finish before they go bad , is to pack them in parcels and hand them out to our neighbors.
The Ts get visited last because they live at the very end of the lane.
And you know what they do while I knock on my neighbors doors? They stand in their corner in the garden half hidden, watching me. Before I knock on theirs, they retreat into the house and come back out as if omg it’s you ! How are you ! ugh. You know Mr and Mrs T, I see you. OK? I know what you are doing. STOP IT.
A couple of weeks ago, I get this massive Jack fruit and I made my trips to the neighboring houses.
I knock on a couple of doors, and watch from the corner of my right eye as Mr T takes his place in the corner in his garden. And for whatever reason, he isn’t quick enough to retreat inside his house before I knock on his gate. So he’s startled when I do, and now knowing he’s caught red handed, he’s ashamed to come to the gate so I have to stand there for a few more seconds before I knock again. Uh hum, erm, heh heh, says he while he approaches me from his corner on the porch. I smile at him my widest smile, look back at where he was standing, look back at our house, look back at him knowingly and hand him the bag of Jack fruit and walk away.
I think, I’ve got it figured out. Next time he or his wife does this, I’ll try and catch their eye through the trees and wave perhaps ! Hello Mr and Mrs T ! Lovely day to snoop on your neighbors eh?
Everyone’s just waiting.
Every time I try to do planks, Not Our Cat sleeps under my belly.
We both think very highly of this book.
This is what we ate on 01/06/2013 for breakfast. Sue me, I cheated.
Camping on the floor again.
Not Our Cat was found sleeping in a bag.
Sipping tea, looking at the one thing that can make me feel at peace these days.