It's A Beautiful Day In The Neighborhood

Friday, I went to a vendor event at a church revival in Southlake. Jamee and Amelie had scheduled it a few months ago, apparently, thinking it was in Flower Mound (their neighborhood). They invited me along to help get my name out in the community. I made a few contacts that hopefully will come through once I open in a few months! Still no news on a space. I've contacted a few Realtors who unfortunately, have been the least bit helpful. I've actually called more places and checked out more on my own than they have done combined. I guess they just don't need the business. Ah well. God's timing is in His hands and I can wait it out.

I know that this is terribly rude, but I must inform you guys of Mike's crazy neighbors. Seriously, the strangest group of people reside on his block. I have always found them amusing, but until recently have just taken it at face value. Until I actually articulated their qualities all at once, I suppose I just tossed aside their hilarity. Now, I feel it is almost my obligation to allow someone else the entertainment that Mike sees on a daily basis.

Across the street, we have a lonely woman probably in her fifties who stalks Michael and runs out whenever he goes outside. We first noticed her probably the day that Michael moved in. "Michael! Jeeeeennifer! I have to tell y'all something!" (I don't really remember when or how she learned our names because we have yet to learn hers.) She always screams that out like she's about to tell us the house is on fire, but when she catches up to us, she simply fills us in on the gossip that she has spied out on the block. "Watch out for those people next door. They drink."She has tracked me down a few times and always asks about the puppies and whether or not I can help her with her fibromyalgia; of which I always give her my card although she has never and probably will never call me due to the fact that she could no longer talk to me about her pain and suffering whenever she sees me. She is always loopy because she lives off of pain killers, yet she constantly complains of falling asleep whenever she is sitting down. I feel sorry for her. She has about 20 cats that live with her indoors and two dogs that she can't control even though she brags about her niece being a dog trainer. We once caught her spying on a backyard party across the street by peeking through the fence in a dark alley, but she pretended that she was just looking for one of her lost cats.

Next door to her, is Rocky. I'm not quite sure how this group of people live in such tiny quarters, but from what I've seen, there are two women with toddlers living here along with Rocky. Together, somehow that adds up to about five cars. I sometimes see the women outside with their babies but they aren't very friendly. Their children are always crying and they are usually not doing much about it. Rocky (not that we know his actual name; it's just what we've always called him) can be found every night at about 10 pm until midnight punching on his punching bag. It's a sound that you cannot miss. Pat, pat, pat, pat, pat. For hours. Every night. When he's not pounding on the bag, you may see him running down the road. Awkwardly enough, we always seem to be pulling in to Mike's driveway right about the same time that he is sprinting into his. Mike tries with all of his might not to hum "In the Eye of the Tiger" in front of him. We have no idea what he is training for. He doesn't speak to us either.

Directly next door to Mike is the meanest woman I've ever met. She makes me uncomfortable. She is actually quite attractive. Probably in her thirties. Dresses really nice. Slender and blond. But mean. She doesn't really communicate, so much as she barks at people. She has two dogs that share the chain link fence with Michael. One is a really sad looking blue dog who almost has to have been a rescue dog by his mannerisms. He is very skittish and looks like he might bite you out of fear. The other is a hound dog. Her name is Georgia. We know this because every time Georgia goes outside she starts howling at something and the neighbor comes out and starts cursing and yelling Georgia's name. Mike once was outside and overheard her phone conversation. She was cursing about someone that she works with. She curses a lot. When Michael first got a puppy, she came and knocked on the door and told Mike to bring in his puppy because the dogs haven't properly been introduced. We still have no idea what she meant by that.

Does everyone have such strange people on their block? These are just the people directly surrounding Mike's house. Not that we don't love them for who they are; it's just that I think their quirkiness is amusing. I'm sure they think the same thing about us.