Inspired by Jenny and her terrific neighbours.

Over the years I’ve lived in a number of houses with a ‘rum do’ assortment of neighbours. As a teenager, we lived in a new terraced house on a housing estate that had limited access for cars. With underpasses aplenty, you could walk for a number of miles without ever having to cross a road. Anyway, on one side was a neighbour we barely knew or saw, and on the other was a family with what is now called a special needs child. Man, they were often noisy with the child frequently having a screaming bout. This was peaceful though, when compared to the neighbours in the house opposite. They had frequent and loud parties that went on well into the night, with ‘guests’ often in a state of undress; they left the curtains partially open. My siblings and I would watch through my bedroom window; we certainly weren’t getting any sleep, until the finale of the evening would invariably be a screaming match, the sound of ornaments (we assumed) being thrown, a slamming of doors, then peace would reign, and we’d finally go to bed.

We then had a bigger house, a little way from the noisy neighbours, with nice neighbours who were no trouble and were in fact very pleasant. Whilst living there, I got married and moved about a mile away with my husband (not before living with his parents for a year whilst we saved for a mortgage deposit). The immediate neighbours there were pleasant enough however we lived opposite a police station and some people in the street would get drunk and go and noisily harass the police by throwing stones at the building and goading them to come out. Good times LMAO.

We moved to a quieter area which was wonderful though weirdly, our 2 ‘best friends’ always seemed to know what we’d been up to, where we’d been, and so on. It transpired that our neighbour, who we chatted to, worked with one of our friends and would pass along any ‘news’ that we’d told them. Well, that killed that relationship and after that, we only ever made ‘polite’ conversation with them. It felt creepy…

After my divorce, I moved to a very small house in a cul de sac. My immediate neighbour had a boyfriend who would hit her and there was often screaming and rows at full volume there. Once, it was so bad, that I called the police. She didn’t appreciate it one bit. I didn’t stay there long despite liking the house and garden. Every house, except mine, I found out after I’d moved in, had been burgled. Our car was burgled, but not the house, thankfully.

After that, we had a house next door to a very deaf old lady who would play the piano, loudly, and leave her TV on most of the day at full volume. We had a new baby, so this wasn’t ideal. Lovely house, beautiful garden but so noisy.

In a different house, there was a teenager who would crank up the volume of the stereo the minute her Mother left to go to work. She was a royal pain. Thankfully we only lived there 2 years.

Another house had a neighbour who would constantly complain about our garden. The lilac tree on the boundary spoiled her view of the sky if she sat in a certain chair. The nettles down the side of our garden – furthest away from her house – bothered her despite me saying it was a very small ‘wild’ patch that the butterflies loved. We didn’t cut our grass enough. We didn’t cut our side of the hedge enough. Oh man, it went on. No lie, I actually watched the man of the house, one morning, separate the different colour gravel he had around a small dais in their garden. Surely life’s too short?

After that we moved to the country and had the best neighbours ever. Friendly but not overly so, quiet, and they loved our chickens. They’d often leave greens on the boundary hedge for the chickens, and we’d give them eggs. They were wonderful, and I sorely regretted that the landlady wanted us out, after a few years, so she could hire a new farmhand and give him the house to live in as part of his salary.

I then moved, with my son, to a house that had, unbeknown to me at the time, a neighbour who was a milkman. He’d frequently wake me at 5am, or even earlier, slamming his door as he left. Nice enough man, but totally oblivious to the amount of noise he made. He was ‘dirty’ too and you could see flies on the inside of his windows. Gross!

Now, I live next door to a foreign family and as regular readers will know, they live life loud, have frequent arguments often at stupid O’clock and generally are a pain, noise-wise. Recently, they were going for it after 10pm, and I could hear through the wall, their son telling them off. I’ve spoken to him a few times in passing, so recognise his voice. He told them to behave which I thought was quite amusing – the son telling off the parents.

If Jenny ever decided to sell up and move away, I’d buy her house in a heartbeat just to have some nice, considerate neighbours for a change, and her beautiful garden – it would take a serious lottery win before I could buy any house but a girl can dream…