Being a Good Neighbor

I'm not, really. I am admittedly lazy and no fan of hot weather. So my lawn and its many weeds grow untended except for what ministrations Diego provides. And Diego, I am coming to learn, is a 30-minute man. If it takes longer than that, he's out the door. He'll trim the sidewalks some other time.

One issue (among many) that vexes me most that one of my bedroom windows refuses to take a curtain. I've lived here nearly 13 years and I've spent most of them without a curtain on one window. I change clothes in the bathroom. But I wish I could get the damn curtain rod to stay in the damn wall.

I've tried those plastic things you hammer in after you drill a hole in the wall - and then you put in the screw. Ne marche pas. It'll last just long enough for me to think that it's holding. Then one morning, I'll wake up and see it drooping dangerously over my head. When I get home from work, it's on the floor.

I've considered glue. Velcro. Hammering in a piece of wood over the window, the applying the curtain rod.

But what I realized this morning, when it was still dark, was that the light goes directly into Bob the Indian's kitchen. Like a klieg light. Like the police wanting you to exit the building with your hands up. Finally, I got a clue and in the other corner of the bedroom, turned on a small, low wattage lamp and turned off the "catch the prisoners before they go over the wall" lamp.

I noticed, too, that the lights weren't on in Bob's house as they usually are, um, not long after I rise. I'm sorry, Bob and the little Bobettes. I will try to remedy the situation this weekend.

I don't have many - well, any - neighbors left who talk to me, so I'd better hang on to Bob as best I can.