After I walked the neighborhood a few nights ago and dropped of copies of my Please Feel Free To Come Talk To Me note in eight of my neighbor’s mail slots.
Lyn, who lives two doors down took me up on my offer and emailed me a hello. We had a really nice back and forth and I was happy to be reminded of her and her husband’s name should I ever run into them again.
Tonight I looked in my mailbox and found the note below. I recognize the handwriting right away. Carol.
Oh Carol, it’s been too long!*
When I first bought my home in 2011 I met Carol, who is my next-door neighbor, and we had a perfectly friendly chat. She lives alone and I would guess is in her early 70s. She seemed to have a little bit of a victim mentality, but she seemed harmless enough.
When I had a fence built around the perimeter of my property, she left a note about how she didn’t appreciate the work crew coming into her yard (I had left a note letting her know that this would be happening, and provided her a number to call me at if she had any issues with it.). She also didn’t feel that the stockade fence I put up to block my view of her super ugly backyard, her trash cans and her planters made of truck tires was very friendly.
That’s basically the only communication I’ve had with her. It’s always handwritten notes. So perhaps I was due for one since it’s been so long since I’ve heard from my penpal.
I do feel for her, but I won’t be responding.
*I probably shouldn’t use her real name, but I’m not being mean, just stating facts, and let’s be real, there’s pretty much zero chance she or anyone she knows will read this.