The Crazy Lady Chronicles: Volumes 1, 2 and 3.

I live in a pretty great neighborhood. I own a townhome in a quiet little subdivision. When I moved in, I was among the first of my generation to buy in the neighborhood, so it was just me and a bunch of little old ladies/gentlemen (and a few baby boomers scattered in). Over the last 5 years, more of that has shifted and while people my age are still scarce, it isn't all elderly people either. I have a few friends in the neighborhood (I've blogged about Erin). On one side of me is Mattie, who is wonderful and fun. On the other side is the woman I've dubbed "Crazy Neighbor Lady", known to her friends as Jean.

My first inkling that something was a little off with her happened in conversations we would have as she was sweeping off the sidewalk in front of her condo and I would be walking in. However, the first "INCIDENT" happened about a year and a half ago.

Volume 1:

I live 4 minutes from the airport and friends of mine often park in my other designated space (I own 2) when flying out so as not to pay astronomical parking fees. Crazy Neighbor Lady had been in her home about 2-3 months when a friend parked in my space for a week and a half while she was in Arizona. About day 8 this note appeared on my front door:
Just in case you can't read it, with original spelling and punctuation:
Laural (I believe your Name is):
Do you know who the car belongs to next to us. Ist does not bother me but has been there for awhile. & it occured to me it could be a stolen car. If you are a ware of the one, it belongs to, all is fine. Call me at xxx-xxxx if you do not know owner.
Thanks.
Jean M
xxx Kent

Because we all know that car thieves park their bounty in random neighborhoods.

Volume 2:

I don't have any photographic evidence to back this one up, this is simply a conversation we had. This is the main reason that when I see her out and about I ALWAYS pick up my cell phone and pretend to have a conversation. I am not the sort of person to do that regularly, so that's a huge deal.

(I'm unpacking the car from a shopping trip)
CNL: Lorie/Lorah! Lorie!
(she always starts conversations like this. As evidenced above, she has no idea what my name is.)
LorA: hi...
CNL: Hi Lorie. I just wanted to mention that the other day when I was peeking over the fence into your backyard...
(WHOA. Who *does* that? Who ADMITS they do that? And who blatantly TELLS the person they're spying on that they do that?)
The rest of the conversation was something about me not locking my gate one day and she was concerned....um, yeah. I'm sure she was just pissed I hadn't also left the back door unlocked so she could get in.

Volume 3:

I was talking to Barb, another friend in the neighborhood the other day and she asked me if I had seen THE NOTE. I said no, and she informed me that I needed to take a little hike down to the end of the sidewalk in front of CNL's house. There I found a teensy tiny piece of poo and this note, in a sandwich bag under a rock. I went back and took a picture for you all later (no poo, it was gone) and I even got brave enough to bring the note in and scan it. lol. I'm pretty sure it's easily read.



Ok, yes. Poo should not be on the sidewalk. But her complaint about it being in the grass is moot since she happens to live right next to the common area they are supposed to poop in. And it's not like we're talking about a huge specimen here, it was literally smaller than my pinky finger. In the time it took her to write the note, seal it in a plastic bag, and find a rock to weigh it down...she could have just scooted it off the sidewalk.

Sigh.

Please tell me I'm not the only one with a crazy neighbor?

I'm sure there will be more volumes to tell in the Crazy Neighbor Lady Chronicles. Stay tuned.