Let's NOT Give Them Somethin' to Talk About...

Have I ever mentioned how great my neighbors are? They are GREAT. Well, great in the sense that they are never home. They are two bachelors with out of town jobs that bring them home approx every third weekend. It’s an arrangement that has some definite advantages given our particular house situation.

You may wonder what difference it makes to my life whether they are home or not. And before you go labeling me as some nosy old bitty who is far too aware of what her neighbor is up to, let me assure you that this is not the case. In fact, it is my obsessive need for privacy that makes me so aware of the schedule of two bachelors.

Here lies the problem – my neighbors deck is almost directly across, and the exact height of my kitchen window. So if I am in my kitchen, and the gang is on their deck, then we are staring right at each other. And this seems to happen often, because when they are home, they are on the deck. Seriously…all day on the deck. ALL DAY. From sun up to sun down. I am not too fond of this arrangement. I have a high need for privacy in my home. And I feel like they are watching me. I do question why I have never bothered to put up curtains as I avoid my kitchen as much as possible on these weekends – but being the main cook in the house, I have to go in there eventually. And when I do…there they are – looking at me, thinking that I am looking at them. I have no desire to be looking at them. Sigh.

This weekend I felt like I just had enough. After 3 years of living in this house I finally lost it, and tacked up a piece of fabric to hide behind. It’s not permanent. It’s not pretty. But I know it will only be there for as long as the long weekend takes, and Tuesday morning when they will be gone once again, so will the fabric shield. And hopefully so will my irritation.

This little diatribe leads me to two important pondering questions. First of all – why is this bothering me? After 3 years of them nodding at me from their deck while they observe me wash my dirty dishes, why all of a sudden the need for some sort of protective shield? Most people become more relaxed as they age and mature. Is it possible that I become more neurotic as the sands of my life slip through the hour glass? I fear this may be the case. I feel I may be regressing, rather than progressing.

The other thing, and possible more intriguing to me is this…WHAT do they talk about for so long? I can't even wrap my mind around it. What on earth are they discussing? And how long can they discuss it for? I have never in my life seen anyone sit for such long periods of time. Just sit. I have to say, I don’t think that there is ANYONE that I would want to just sit and talk with for that many hours. I am good for maybe 3 hours…but then I need to throw in an activity. Could it be that I just haven’t found the right conversation partners? Could it be that these gentlemen are far more interesting than anyone that I may have encountered in my lifetime? Could it be the free flowing beer that accompanies the chatting - is that the secret? Maybe I should go see what these guys are talking about that is of such interest. Hmmm... maybe they are talking about me? Maybe my kitchen routines and old sheep pajamas spark the conversation that keeps on going...and going. Do you think? Well, if that's the case, maybe I should tame down my kitchen antics...look a little less enthused as I wash those dishes. Maybe cook with a little less flare.

Maybe the curtain was the answer to the problem all along! Lets see if this fabric puts the kibosh on the lengthy deck gazing. We'll see if this little curtain experiment gives them something NOT to talk about.