Won't You Be My Neighbor?

I’ve been in my new neighborhood a little over six months now, and I feel that I’m slowly getting to know my new neighbors. It’s a quiet neighborhood, this little Legoland subdivision of mine, with most people gone to work during the day, and everyone shut behind their front doors at night. There don’t seem to be a lot of small children around, at least on my block. I think it’s kids who often get people out an moving around in their yards, giving you the chance to meet them. There are lots of people out walking and running, often with dogs, but they usually just smile and wave hello. Alice is often a great introduction, especially when she’s playing with her ball in the yard. People almost always stop to watch her, and we’ve even had a one or two people walk over to see what’s going on. I’ve had the chance to meet a few neighbors, and I’m getting to know their quirks. Starting from the top of the street: The Chicken Lady—she lives across the street and has 4 chickens in her backyard (Two over the limit, she tells me furtively). The Hoarder—he lives next door to The Chicken Lady. He’s an older, retired man who lives by himself. From what I can see of his house, the living room and the garage are stuffed FULL. According to The Chicken Lady, the rest of the house is full too. He comes and goes by the back door, because he can’t get in or out any other way. The Nurse—across the street from The Hoarder, and next door to me is The Nurse. She is married with grown children, and she has told me that she’d like to move away from Wisconsin and go to work in California as a nurse in the prison system. Personally, I’d pick winter weather over prison employment any day. The Nurse has a little white rat terrier dog who barks when you talk to it. They also let the dog run free, and the dog likes to use my yard as an extension of its bathroom. And The Nurse wonders why she didn’t get along with the guy who used to own my house. Huh. The Smokers—next door to The Hoarder is a couple who lives in one side of a duplex. I think they might work from home, at least for part of the day. Every couple of hours (it seems—not that I’m keeping watch), they come out, usually together, and stand on the porch and smoke. The Blinds Lady—she lives in the other side of the duplex next to The Smokers. She’s the Blind”s” Lady because she works for a local window treatment manufacturer. I don’t know much about her, other than she has two grown children and an adorable, friendly golden retriever. The Young Punks—they live on the other side of me. Mommy bought the house for her daughter and the daughter’s boyfriend to live in. Daughter has about as much personality as wallpaper paste. Boyfriend is the typical young guy—likes to shoot things (mostly geese) and drives an enormous diesel engine pickup truck to reinforce his masculinity. It sounds like a semi idling in the driveway when he lets it warm up on winter mornings. They have two dogs, who seem nice but are somewhat untrained. The male dog is “intact” (of course), and he made me nervous at first because didn’t respect the lot lines and would come bounding over to check out Alice. They would also use my front yard as their bathroom (what is with people not keeping an eye on their dogs? Not cool.) I tried to gently hint that they should keep their dogs in the yard, and when that didn’t work, I took to cleaning up after their dogs and leaving it where they would find it. I think they finally got the message.