Donna's Neighbors

Who the heck is Donna? Well, um, that's me.

And if we are going to be blog friends, then I think it's time you met my neighbors. Now, my neighbors pale in comparison to Nancy's fascinating bevy of Condo characters. Nevertheless, I feel it is an introduction far overdue.

And, yes, my name is Dana (Day-na) not Donna (Dawn-uh) however Donna is what one of my neighbors insists on and persists in calling me. Truly, I do not think she means to change my name. And I am more than certain this is not due to the fact that she is of another culture - such as Irish - which would perhaps pronounce my name differently, but to their ears, correctly. Nor do I think that she is willfully pronouncing it wrong and thereby letting me know that I and my name are of no consequence to her and hers. Like Endora with Derwood Darrin.

She just somehow has it in her head that Donna is my name. I ignore it. I mean, this from a woman who says she loves those mocho floppy-chinos more than lotties - how could you possibly dislike her?

Her husband ribs her about it. In fact he jokes with everyone about everything. He is never serious. It has to be frustrating to attempt a sober conversation with the man. It must be something akin to discussing the political state of the Middle East with Robin Williams.

The whole family has a great sense of humor and with a 3 bedroom house occupied by 2 adults, 7 children, 3 grandchildren, 1 son in law, various other in-laws moving in and out, 3 dogs, 2 puppies, 3 completely wrecked vehicles, 3 more vehicles in need of major mechanical work and 4 running vehicles, one has to have humor in abundance. Or insanity. Or both.

And one must have both good humor and patience in abundance to live next door to all of this. Not to mention we live in a rather decent neighborhood where this sort of multi-family farm slash car lot is not looked upon with favor. Neighborhood associations are so snooty that way.

So if I told you they were great neighbors would you believe me? Because they are. They always borrow stuff, leave trash in the yard, park in front of our house - all exactly what good neighbors are supposed to do. But we look out for them and them for us. Our kids hang out together. They make us laugh and give us something to discuss on those long cold winter nights. Oh wait, this is Houston and we don't have winter.

Sure, Mr. Roger's wouldn't have them and trust me, this ain't the Neighborhood of Make Believe...but they do make great fodder for stories.

Well, they don't bring us casseroles or get excited about trash novels by the pool, but they are ours.

For now.

Next up, the new neighbors. *cue the creepy music*