In this rainy season I have been pretty much alone here on the hill. The Mad Queen and entourage left, Nicolas went on some sailing venture and all the other houses are sitting empty waiting for either rentals or the owners to come for a brief visit.
My closest neighbors have been the critters in the woods that scuttle about and upset the Worthless Ones and make them brake into gales of hysterical barking.
Till now when the rains have stopped.
Nicolas is back and the house down the street has had some renters and some white station wagon has been barreling up and down my normally very quiet street. The mutts have taken a great dislike to this car and I fear it is mutual; the other day a youngish, overweight biker-type in a dirtygray t-shirt and hair to his mid back, leaned out the window of the mystery white station wagon and yelled at the mutts. Right neighborly I thought, but then he is only temporary, we live here permanently.
So last night I learned what it is to have neighbors again. The house where I have seen the white wagon parked, formerly Steve's house, was having a do and music was blasting all night.
Now the house is a fair distance away, but the speakers were, as I discovered this morning when they packed up and left and passed in front of my house, enormous, the size one would imagine to be used for an outdoor fiesta at the local market square, not for a private dwelling in the woods.
And by a confluence of bad luck and too much cheap wine, I ended up with a very bad case of tummy ache, so I was wandering around the house, holding my tummy and wishing they, whoever they were, would go away, far, far away and leave me alone in my misery, rather that having the house shake from the music blasting through the wood.
But they blasted away all night, turning the volume down slightly toward morning.
The Mad Queen was having fits about my dogs barking in the early morn; imagine what he would have done with this noisome mess.
I kinda miss not finding out.
But the speakers were packed and shipped out in a rickety red, truck. I saw that myself, so maybe tonight I will get some sleep.