Working from home has some great perks, but it can be a little lonely.
Fortunately, I have neighbors who try to help in that regard.
No, I don’t mean the two strangers who have shown up at my door with offbeat questions (one barged her way in to my living room, looking for a friend who lived elsewhere; the other demanded to know if we were selling). Nor do I mean the Jehovah’s Witnesses (always friendly) or the occasional request for a cup of sugar or other neighborly help.
Nope. Lately, I can’t help but notice that I tend to be on display.
I sit at the dining room table, facing the front door, which I leave open to let in a bit of light and offer a change of scene when my eyes need a break from the computer. People on foot and in cars take this to be an open invitation to gawk, like I’m a Lord & Taylor Christmas display.
In fact, I can set my watch by two neighbors — one who walks her dog several times a day and stops in front of the house every time to stare in, another who purposely slows his car to rubberneck.
Nothing to see here. Middle-aged woman in shorts and a T-shirt, typing at a laptop, talking on the phone, occasionally drinking coffee or eating lunch while she works.
Not that interesting.
Basil thinks this is funny, and has taken to stopping in front of the house before pulling in to the driveway to flash me a toothy grin.
While I’ve debated the merits of a one-fingered salute, he’s suggested I start a collection of masks and funny hats to don throughout the day, just to keep people on their toes.
I’m still shaking my head over yesterday’s interloper, however. She was equal parts funny and creepy.
A power-walker craned his head in my direction as he went by about 9:30. I sighed, gulped more coffee and was refocusing my brain when something caught my eye through the storm door directly across the street.
An escapee from a weekend birthday party, I thought.
Or was it?
As the day progressed, Minnie got closer and closer. By lunchtime, this was the sight that greeted me.
You can’t make this stuff up.