The house next door has been empty for several months – ever since the crazies and their dogs moved to Florida. This past weekend a caravan of SUVs, cars, and a van or two began to show up unloading furniture and household goods. I said a silent prayer.
About an hour after the parade of vehicles began, my wife, the lovely and eternally ecclesiastical, Dawn, and I were on our way out. We were just getting to the Toyota when we heard a loud voice coming over the fence.
“Hey! Hey! Hey!”
“Hey! Hey! Hey!” is not much of an introduction.
I stopped and turned around. There was a tall slim fellow with a big smile.
“Hey, Krafty! We’re your new neighbors!”
I took a breath.
The guy looked familiar, but he was out of context. I knew him, but from where? Then it dawned on me (no relation). He was a St. Arbucks habitué.
Our new neighbors are a young Minister, his wife, and their two young kids. He serves as pastor at a nearby church. I know him because he likes to come down to St. Arbucks to write his Sunday sermons. He is a pleasant young man who impresses me as quite sane. That’s about all I ask.
I’m not fussy.
I’ve never met his family, but I am relatively confident that such a pleasant and sane young man is going to have a family equally emotionally secure and at home on this planet.
Let us pray. Please, God.
After watching them toting and fetching stuff all day I noticed one significant empty spot – no pets were unloaded. I am not heartbroken. I’m not anti-pet or anything like that. I’m just wanting a bit of a reprieve after having lived next door to the crazies and their two dogs, Zoey and Zeus.
I’ve written about those dogs before, but suffice it to say, those pups were the sanest residents of the house next door. The dogs never made me nervous or wishing that I’d not sold my guns.
Short of Nuclear War these new folks are going to be just fine.
We now have two, count ‘em two, ministers living next to each other. Keep that up and we will have to change the name of our neighborhood from “Edgewood grove” to “God Gulch.” Having multiple nearby contacts with the Ultimate Landlord cannot be anything but good.
Our new neighbors will be an asset to the ‘hood. I feel secure that I will not find any of them wandering around in our backyard at night, stoned and/or drunk. I don’t think I will be asked about when I will be dealing with all of the dead bodies in our yard. Oh, yes…the old neighbors were such fun.
I am looking forward to meeting the rest of the family. I’m sure that will happen as they get settled and realize that I am harmless despite my manner and appearance.
Things are looking up.