In the neighborhood where I grew up, there was a lady who was known as The Busybody. I'm not sure if I was told, but I always knew not to reveal much to her, about anything. (And because this is St. Louis, I'm not even going to use her first name here.)
Now that I'm home all day most days, I think she was driven to her hobby by boredom. Recall, too, that this was back in the dark ages, i.e., before cable TV, and there's only so much dusting and laundry a person can do before things get koo-koo upstairs.
I've learned a lot about my neighborhood without expending much effort. Here's a partial list:
– I know which houses have been bought, which are coming on the market, and which are rentals.
– There are two baby boys due to be born in the next six months. One mom is feeling fine, the other gets migraines.
– I know who cares enough (or perhaps was badgered long enough by the neighborhood association) to make repairs.
– There is a dainty, gorgeous orange tabby cat named Kenny who follows his owner when he's walking the dog, whose name is Beckett.
– That house that was raided by the FBI? I know why. It's not that exciting. Kind of a letdown, actually.
– One lady has trained her dog to pee on her deck. She rinses it off afterwards. (The deck, not the dog.)
– When the mail arrives later than 11, the regular mail carrier is on vacation.
– The UPS guy has lovely green-brown eyes and will bring your packages inside if you show up at the door toting a baby.
Just think what I could find out if I really put my mind to it.
Posted with Blogsy
Mama-Come-Lately 