I am writing a post about neighbors.
I barely know my neighbors. I have lived in my house for almost 6 years. The neighbor on the left of me is from Russia or around there. She is 49 and has a son that is 22 I think. When I first moved in I was outside in the front yard doing a lot doing yard work. We took out all the grass and I dug a ditch to make a small looking wash covered with river rock. It was very hard to dig because the dirt around here is very hard. I would have to soak the dirt with water to get it soft. We put rock all over the yard and planted trees and bushes. My neighbor would come out in her yard and never say a word to me. Not even hello.
She then got a boyfriend who moved in with her. He would be in the yard and talk to my husband over the fence. He told us she wanted to have a baby. She was 48. He did not want to have a baby. She would talk to us sometimes then. They broke up after a couple of years. I seen her Facebook page and she always poses in bikinis in the freezing water at Lake Tahoe in Feb with snow all around. She dresses in short skirts and tight clothes like she is 20.
One day there was a beat up truck parked in front of our house. I thought it was a friend of hers. It was trash day so my trash can was at the curb by my driveway. The person in the red truck hit my trash can and knocked it over and drove off. I ran out and they didn’t stop, they just sped away. I marched over to my neighbors house. Just as I was about to knock on the door, the door opened. She jumped back. She said “Why are you standing here?” In her heavy Russian accent . I told her I was about to knock on the door. I asked her if she knew the person in the red truck that just drove away. She said “No, I don’t know that person, who are you?” I said I was her neighbor . “Which house?” She said. I pointed to my house which is about 20 feet away. “You don’t look like the person that lives there. You have no hair.” I told her I have no hair because of chemo treatments. I told her the person ran over my trash can and some of the trash fell out of it. She followed me to the trash can and helped me fix it. The stick was knocked out of the hole. It is there for the garbage 🚚 truck to grab and lift up the trash bin to dump it out. It was really hard to push the round dowel back into the hole. I told her she didn’t have to do it, my husband can do it. “Oh you mean Doug”, she said. She knew his name. Probably because her boyfriend, that left, was also named Doug. I said yes. She was persistent and finally fixed the trash can. I thanked her as she walked away. It will be the one and only time she will talk to me. It is not one of those “I baked you a plate of cookies for Christmas”, type of neighbor relationship. I should wave at her the next time I see her and say “Hi” but she would yell “Who are you, why are you talking to me?”