Neighbors.

We live on a very busy road, E & I. We have not met all of the neighbors, as one would expect, over the course of the 6 years we have been home owners. The 3 sets we do actually KNOW are...er...characters, to say the least.

1. Right Across the Street.
We love these neighbors. An older husband and wife lived there for 30 some-odd years until the husband passed away last year of cancer. He was a funny guy-often mowing his lawn on a ride-on and wearing a dust mask. E envied his snowblower in the winter, with its plastic shield thingie the operator stands in.
After the Dad passed, the Son moved in. I don't actually know the circumstances of his moving in; we thought divorce, but last week we found out that was not the case. Anyways, the son is a hoot. He's a nursing student in his early thirties, gay and quite the chatterbox. Of course, I love gay men as a rule (they make the best girlfriends). These 2 are normal, quiet and yes, I have borrowed milk from them. E and I also watched as their house caught on fire last year (no one was hurt, but Mom got a killer kitchen remodel). The only issue they have is the goddamn Maltese they have, that despite having lived across from us for YEARS finds it her single job in life to bark that God awful little dog bark EVERY time she sees me, E or my dogs.

2. To the Right.
We hate this house. You know that eye sore that every neighborhood has? Well this is ours. 4 different colors of siding, brick and clapboard. Its a 4 family house, and 2 sets of tenants have always been there, and the other 2 are ever changing. The big fat who lives upstairs (whom Carol from across the street giggles at when he rides his teeny tiny lawnmower, fat oozing out everywhere) has been said to have a very active and LOUD sex life. His raunchy oinks have caused at least one couple to move to date. So, Fat Guy has this little dog (Dusty) who he walks on our street with out a leash. Dusty has almost ended up road kill more than once, and I've had to bring him home half a dozen times. Dusty is not a barker.
Also, Fat Guy may or may not be the owner of the Cat that spent most of his summer in my yard hanging out with me. I'd bring him food and water and treats and he'd just hang there, sometimes in the driveway and sometimes in the yard. We'd have big summer parties, and there would be that cat, sitting in the middle of a conversation circle like he owned the place. I have not seen him in a while; he might have belonged to the couple that left due to Fat Guy's overzealous sexcapades. Or became roadkill. Who knows.
2A. The Wretched Couple to the Right, First Floor
I met the woman half of this couple pretty shortly after we moved in. The woman was in her 50's and has a toddler. Like, her own blood child. Weird. The woman looks like the crackhead to end all crackheads. He boyfriend looks like an iron worker of some sort. Not a man of many words.

So one day, after having listened to this couple SHRIEK at each other a zillion times, the Lady comes running out the house, child in tow, with a pipe or some sort of stick in her hand. She's screaming for E to call the cops, her boyfriend is hitting her. The kid's crying. The Guy comes flying out the house yelling. E says "What do I do?" to me. I enforce the cop thing. There's a CHILD involved, for Christssakes.

The child was removed for about a year. They had to do counseling and shit, come to find out the Mom has a cancer or 2 and some hepatitis or something...drug related. We haven't heard much from that side of the street since the kid moved back in.

3. The Wingnuts Behind Us.
I maintain that redheads are evil. The men are not to be trusted. The women are 50/50. For example, the wife that lives behind us.

This woman is the Devil Spawn.

In the summer, E and I will sit on the deck with a beer and listen to her SCREAM at her husband and kids. Some of her best lines:
"DON'T TOUCH THE FUCKING CURTAINS!!"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP PAT!"
"YOU'RE SO FUCKING STUPID!"
"FUCKING MORON!"
And so on. In the midst of this (which is 98% directed at the husband), you'll here him say "Okay"
"Uh huh" "Whatever you say" quietly to his wife. He's a really sweet guy, mild mannered. We have never heard him yell at her or the kids. E is waiting for the day the state police knock on our door and tell us that Pat killed his wife. E said he would tell the cops it was about fucking time, every man has a breaking point and that bitch was just harping on his.
The crazy Wife also tossed dog shit onto our driveway, then drove a stake in the ground someplace near the property line. E talked to Pat immediately; Pat had no idea, apologized and left. We think the Wife beats Pat (this has been confirmed through Carol, the Mom across the street). Their kids are well behaved, so that's good.
The only gripe that I personally have with the Behind-Us neighbors is Pat's truck. Pat is the kind of guy that works on his own house, camper and fixes his own vehicles.

Pat needs new exhaust on his pick up.

I know that over the past couple years, Pat's truck has gotten progressively louder. One would think that the truck had a tricked out FlowMaster system, but no. He's got a rotten something under there.

And he drives that fucking truck like a hot rod, zooming out of his driveway onto the side street. (not that I can blame him for escaping).

He and his goddamn truck woke me up at 6 AM this morning.

We don't actually know any of the other neighbors; the majority, aside from those mentioned, are in their 80's and slowing dying off (except one couple with kids). Everyone else is quiet, cleans their yard, mows their lawn and generally keeps up the appearance of the neighborhood. Just this past year, E put up a 6 foot vinyl fence to *try* to block some of the view of the Crappy House to the Right. It did not entirely work, but it did keep Dusty from shitting in my yard.