Neighbors

I talked to my neighbors this past week. Two of them! That may not be unusual to you city folk, but it was almost amazing to me. Almost? Nope, it was amazing.

Some of you might know my neighbor as well as I do. He is the guy who is out shooting his high-caliber rifles every Sunday morning while I am writing my weekly story. Ronnie has lived right next door to Elaine and me for at least fifteen years. Would you like to guess how many times we have spoken to each other? If you include speaking to each other this week, I can say with confidence the number would be twice.

But you know what? I don't think it is as weird as it sounds. When I say he (and his wife) live right next door he /they are at least a quarter-mile away. I can't see his house from my house unless I go outside.

You notice things about people. Ronnie is no exception. For the last fifteen years or so, I have noticed Ronnie leaves Monday through Friday I've noticed Ronnie leaves for work at 5:00 AM. Like a clock at 5:00 AM, I can count on his headlights coming up his driveway and lighting up my/our bedroom. I feel it necessary to give Elaine partial ownership of our bedroom because she controls the bed sheets, window opening, and television schedule.

One look at the flag and signs on Ronnie's driveway gate and you won't need to guess his political leanings. He isn't afraid to let you know which way he is leaning.

As I remember, the other time I spoke with Ronnie, the conversation related to property and gun rights. Ronnie asked me if I would allow him to hunt on my/our property. Well, it was sort of hunting but not like you might be thinking. Ronnie stood on my porch dressed in military/hunting camo and carrying a model of what you guys like to call an assault rifle. Ronnie proceeded to tell me a coyote had come up on his porch, scooped up the family chihuahua, and headed for my/our property. Ronnie asked me for permission to walk our property to hunt the coyote. I said yes.

Not that this has anything to do with Ronnie, but another neighbor seeing Ronnie dressed as he was and carrying what he was carrying, telephoned our house to inform me a guy in military gear, carrying an assault rifle was on my property and I needed to get him off.

That was pretty much my conversation with Ronnie. Don't get me wrong, we wave at each other, and Elaine and I have spoken to his wife many times.

Weird enough Ronnie called last week.

Ronnie: Monner, I need a favor. Me: Wow, what's up?

Ronnie: Sandy (his wife) is going to a hospital for a couple of days. I need to leave for work at 5:00. (told ya) Can you come over mid-morning to let my dogs out

Me: I guess, how do I do that?

Ronnie: just slide the door open and they will go out. Maybe you should come over now to meet them.

Me: Good idea.

Ronnie and Sandy have graduated from Chihuahuas. I went over to meet a Doberman Pinscher and two Pit Bulls. One of the Bulls was the biggest (construction language) Bull, I have ever seen. It was the small one that scared me. It kept smiling at me like tomorrow I'm going to kill you.

The next morning I put on PANTS, leather gloves, and a leather coat. I chambered a round in my pistol. The dogs were waiting, barking and growling at the door. I opened the door. Just like Ronnie said, "Open the door and they will go outside." First, the Doberman, then the big one, AND THEN, the smiley small one. He ran right past me, with that teeth-baring smile. I think he needed to urinate more than eat me. I get like that myself. I did it, got back in the car, and drove home.

I mentioned I talked to two neighbors. These neighbors Elaine and I have a relationship with. In twenty years, I have eaten with them at least once and they have eaten at our house once. That said, our relationship consists mostly of waves.

Elaine and I walked Lizzie to the road and down our driveway. It just so happened, the neighbors were riding by on their horses. We exchanged greetings and then got down to the real neighborhood stuff.

Man: What do you think about all the shooting that is coming from down there

Me: You get used to it. It doesn't really bother me. Boy Twin wants to bring his guns out to shoot here.

Woman: It really bothers us. Me: What are you going to do?

We changed the conversation to horses. I know about as much about horses as I know about rocketships. I rode a horse/pony at my cousin's house when I was a kid. I never wanted one. Elaine had a horse, it bit her. Horses are pretty and make Boy Twin swell up from allergies.

We talked about which neighbor was trying to sue which neighbor. You city folk do that also, don't you? We talked about neighbors, past and present. We didn't talk about politics, which is unusual. It was nice to talk to them. It might be six months before we talk again, but we can always wave.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot. OK, I did forget. Elaine and I will be in Santa Fe for the Mountain and Valley Wool Festiva, October 7-8 at the Santa Fe Fairgrounds. Elaine will be selling our yarns and Kromski wheels and looms as well as Harrisville weaving looms. I will be eating some fine New Mexican cuisine. and carrying stuff. A family friend will be staying with Lizzie. Come buy some stuff. Observe the aspen turning yellow in the mountains on the way to Santa Fe. Hey, that sounds like a song, "On the Way to Santa Fe."

Love ya, God Bless, Buy yarn

Our crazy lives!

Monner