Tag Archives: neighbor

Hey, You with the Pool!

I read a lot of lists on these here blogs. Everybody’s got one, so I thought, I’ll start a list. But, I am not a multi-tasker. I can only think of one thing at a time. So, here’s number one on my list:

1. Make 8 friends who have a backyard pool.

That way, I’ll get invited to a different pool friend’s house everyday and twice on Sundays. That sounds so cool, clear, and refreshing because it’s getting MUGGY up in ‘here. When we were kids, we used to call this sort of thing “using.” Now, it’s just “logical.” Virginia temps are reaching the mid-90’s and to be outside is to be sweating. I’ve had it with the hot nonsense already.

On a related note, guess who saw a new fuzzy neighbor yesterday? That’s right–ME. This fuzzy neighbor happens to be the only person I’ve seen in our ENTIRE neighborhood who owns a backyard pool. My dog took a dump right in front of her house, so, that gave us plenty of time to small-talk. 5 more dog dumps like that one, and I can call her a friend and find out what time’s too early for me to show up for a swim.

1 down. 7 to go.



Filed under Around Town

Fuzzy Neighbor Update #2

I found this one’s dog. My own dog walks are turning out to be a fuzzy neighbor (click for back story) goldmine. I wonder if I switch up the time of day, we might see even more action. Or I’ll take two walks. Or maybe three.

Because today I got a fuzzy neighbor’s phone number. Of course, it came off the dog’s collar, but I can pretty much guarantee that the neighbor and I are both glad I got it. No one answered when I called to say I found Gracie (the name of my new fuzzy friend’s dog), so I had to leave my phone number. Pretty sure she held on to that.

Our meeting was brief. She was all, “I don’t know how Gracie got out of the yard!” And I was all, “We’re new in town. I’m Lisa–nice to meetya.” (Lisa nice to meetya in sing-song, of course.) She kept trying to get to know me by blubbering over the lost dog, which was so highly unnecessary. We forgot to set up a date and time for a glass of wine on her back deck–you know, to thank me–but, I’m sure she’ll call.

Anyway, I told her about this blog and how thoroughly neighbor-licious I am. I can’t help think about how lucky she was that I let Gracie out of the fence–I mean, found Gracie.

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Fuzzy Neighbor Update

I recently read that the best way to start a conversation with someone you don’t know is by having an object or event to discuss besides yourself. Agreeing on said object or event takes all the pressure off two strangers, and eliminates the awkward and preliminary “getting to know you” questions. On yesterday’s dog walk, and secretly inside my own quest to meet and greet my fuzzy neighbors (click for back story), I found just the situation I needed to spark a conversation with a neighbor I’ve never met.

Right down the block, I found icicle lights hanging over someone’s garage. And it’s after Easter! As this was obviously an oversight on my neighbor’s part, I decided to increase my neighbor-liciousness and shed light on the situation so I walked right up to her door.

“Excuse me. Hi. I’m Lisa, so glad to meetya.” FYI: I sing-song that part–Lisa, so glad to meetya–because I feel it makes me extra friends. At this point, I probably don’t have to tell you, I’d already won her over. “You’re not going to believe this, but when you packed up your Christmas decorations three months ago, you forgot to take down the icicle lights! Look! They’re hanging right there!” And we laughed. Or, I was laughing as I caught the eye of the neighbor across the street and pointed at the icicle lights. I think the home owner was laughing, too? Not sure. She may have been warming to my sense of humor. That can sometimes take a while.

She didn’t say much. She looked red, so I assumed she was pretty shy. I told her about this blog so she could look me up for coffee or wine sometime. Or anytime, really, now that we’re all introduced up and friendly with each other. I don’t think I caught her name . . . But, this is to you and you’re super welcome.

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