Gotta love them neighbors.

The front room in my house has a nice big window looking out to the street, and here's the thing, I have some...interesting neighbors. As a result, sometimes weird things are witnessed on the other side of that window, and quite frankly, I haven't missed cable TV with this neat window-screen replacement. I find my lovely neighborhood equally entertaining.

Prime example: yesterday evening. It was a pleasant evening. Sunny and warm with a slight breeze. Wearing an apron and listening to some tunes, I was happily busying about my kitchen cooking and cleaning up. As I glance out the window amidst my meddling, I see a white haired old man walking a couple of dogs. The smoothness of this man's walk made me give it a seconds more thought, resulting in a double take, followed by a blatant stare, and finally a little snicker and big smile, for what I was beholding as I stared out my window was more than just an old man walking a couple dogs, but rather an old man, possibly in his early 80s, grinning from ear to ear cruising down the street...on Rollerblades...pulled by two small poodles, and completely loving life. I walked away from that window slightly happier myself.

While I'm on the topic of those that pass by, I must discuss the woman that frequents our property almost on a daily basis, and by almost I mean sometimes it's just once a day. To paint the picture (and not to be rude), this woman, whom none of us have ever actually met, large in stature, wearing big baggy dresses, and usually accompanied by her young son and husband comes by at the very least once a day. As I look out the window, I see the small family approaching, pause on the sidewalk, look all around the yard, crouch down and wiggle their fingers as they call in high pitched voices. The first time I saw them, I hadn't the faintest idea of what they were doing. I figured our neighborhood had reached a new height of bizzaro. Then I saw nasty cat come scampering out, showing his ugly face. Good heavens. They're coming here to see nasty cat?! You already know how I feel about that. Lately this family has been feeling a bit more comfortable and ventures their little way right into the yard, picking that nasty cat right up and then passing him to the little boy. Rather then take nasty cat home with them like we beg them to every time we see them, they'd rather just show up the next day to fill this nasty need of thiers. It's beyond me, but whatevs.

This encounter would seem significantly stranger if we weren't already accustomed to watching complete strangers pausing at the steps of our house as they walk by to take a seconds gander. Sometimes they even give into the urge to take out their phones and snap a quick picture? Oookay? Our house is neither extreme in its ugliness or cuteness. It doesn't make any sense, but it's just the existing state of affairs.

Along with its unique characteristics, this little street of mine has its fair share of mystery as well. Just a couple doors down is what I like to call The House of Dies Drear. It's a small white house with pleasant lattice work along the front siding. Upon first inspection to any average joe in passing, it seems like a typical house. Not until further assessment over the span of several months does one realize how atypical it really is. I've walked by this house literally hundreds of times, and I feel as though there is just something off about the whole thing. They're hiding something in there. There are about 5 mailboxes attached to the house, and 5 trashcans aligned neatly in a row on the street every Wednesday, and sometimes there may be a little light on in one of the rooms upstairs, indicating that there are multiple apartments in which people reside in within this house, no? But after 10 months of living next door to this residence, and after incessant running back and forth past this house multiple times a day, I have seen only one person, singular, within its property. Never have I seen anybody come or go from its dwelling. It's as if nobody lives there. It just sits, creating small changes from day to day of its own accord. Part of some eerie underground railroad? Hiding some kind of hidden treasure from the peoples of its neighborhood? Ghosts? Whatever it is, it's mysterious indeed.

In addition, right next door is a run-down, abandoned, old shop/building. I like to call it the pit with the pendulum. The only things that inhabit this dwelling are cobwebs, gloom, screams lost to the darkness, and what I can only imagine as foul play. When I first moved into this little house I call home right next door to this eerie hollow, I wondered if I would be engulfed into this horrifying pit and go missing one day, never to be seen again. It gave me the heebie jeebies. There are no windows, and only a few doors that remain perpetually locked. Nobody ever knew what was inside, and nobody ever saw anything come or leave. It's obscurity was so mysterious. That is until I walked by one day to notice the door unlatched and propped slightly ajar. With a slightly racing heart, moist palms, and a bit of unease, I went...inside. Unsure of what I would find, I was happy to have my roommate with me. With a gasp, I stepped inside and found...nothing. No lurking monsters. No murder axes. No kidnapped children. No aged skeletons. Just some supplies to start the clean up process. Quite frankly, the mystery, tension, and exhilaration that the building once held for so many people vanished in an afternoon, and I was a wee disappointed. Now it's just a dumb old trashy building.

And just so you don't think my house is above the rest of the neighborly street, it's just as shabby as ever. It fits right in with the others. The inhabitants of this house, however, maybe not quite so peculiar. At least I'd like to think so. It's what I tell myself at any rate. Anywhobody, stay tuned for the special treasures that can only be found in the yellow brick house with the green chair.