The obvious questions is why in the heck aren’t I outside as today is as amazing as yesterday. It is 70° beautiful degrees, I’m in the midst of a good book and the deck is pristine so what’s with my being in the house. Well, it’s this way: the people in the house on the next street whose house backs mine are playing music so loudly I could sing along if I were so inclined. They carry on conversations by yelling over the music, and I could join those as well as I can hear every word. I tried outside but was driven back inside by the noise. I am not a rap fan.

I met the female side of those neighbors last year. I was next door talking to her neighbor when she came over. Her hair was in curlers, the kind we used to use in high school which were so big we couldn’t sleep comfortably. She had a kerchief over them, again a throwback. She had a cigarette hanging out of the side of her mouth. Her purpose in coming over was to ask why I kept yelling out my back door for Millie. She said it was annoying. I told her that it couldn’t be all that loud as I was calling for Gracie to come inside the house. I didn’t mention the music as today isn’t the first time; it is a summer problem whenever one of them is working in the yard. I also didn’t mention the language I often hear from her mouth when she and her husband fight. I took the high road as the low road was already taken.

Once, when I was young, two neighbors got into a fist fight in the backyard, the backyard we all shared. All the neighbors came out to watch two grown men fighting and rolling all over the grass. The fight had started over a comment about one man’s wife who was German. This was maybe ten years after WWII had ended, and the comment came from a veteran who still harbored anti-German sentiments. I don’t remember how the fight ended, but in my mind’s eye I can still see them rolling on the grass and down the hill.