When one of our neighbours whom we've had warm relations with for the past twenty-four years insisted that we take a guided tour through his recently-renovated home, to admire the choices he had made in completely transforming his kitchen, along with all the other work he had contracted out in entirely refitting his house, it felt as though we were being guided through an entirely new, customized house. And that impression was a fairly accurate portrayal of what we saw. Serge lives alone in his large, well-appointed house, and has spared no amount of investment in gifting himself with an impressive and beautiful place in which to live. He tells us he will die there, has no intention of ever selling the place, and his longer-term intention was to lack for nothing in convenience and attractiveness. His house is immaculate, shared only with one small cat.

He's a kind man, a convivial character, and we've enjoyed him as a neighbour, forever telling us about the latest of his trips abroad in his determination to see the world as a tourist for whom no expense is too great to achieve his ends. What else should he devote his life to, he shrugs; might as well make the most of what he has. And, he informed me, since I'm no longer going out as a volunteer canvasser for the myriad charities I've canvassed for over the years, he decided to respond to the Heart and Stroke's appeal for canvassers, himself.

He also informed us that he thinks highly of a new family that moved in two houses over from his own. The young man of the couple with a very  young child, he said, became friendly with another neighbour, directly across the street from him. This is a family with two children, boy and girl, who had moved in after the original owners decided to relocate to a rural property near Kingston, Ontario, a friendly pair whom we were quite familiar with. The new owner of the property was in the building trades, and he immediately set about making all manner of improvements to the interior and exterior of his recently-purchased house. That was ten years ago. The couple kept themselves distant from their neighbours.

Now, we were informed that he had become very chummy with the new house-owner on Serge's (and our) side of the street. That's nice, we said. And Serge corrected us, saying not at all, since the two had experienced a severe falling out. The man who is a home contractor specializes in painting, and the new neighbour had given him a key to the house so he could enter as a professional painter and refresh the interior in the absence of the owners. They had returned from a trip to discover the house repainted, sure enough, but it was an unprofessional mess, and what's more they received an invoice for the work that was inflated by thousands they had never anticipated.

Yesterday while my husband was out taking the weekly garbage pick-up to the curb, the young man and his toddler son happened by and engaged my husband for the first time in conversation. He proceeded to tell my husband the details of what had happened between himself and the painter, describing a man who cursed and threatened, spat at him, and shouted across the street repeatedly that he should be forewarned the man was prepared to do him physical harm. Police were called. The harassment continued, despite the younger man attempting to speak rationally with his challenger, only to be rebuffed and treated repeatedly to ongoing threats. We had known nothing of all of this, not being familiar with either family, but my husband quite liked the young man and felt more than a little compassion for what he was experiencing. Stories of the 'neighbours from hell' abound, and this young man was living his own very particular story.

We tend to know many of our neighbours, some fairly well, others slightly and others yet who have taken the place of the original owners, not at all, but to nod to in acknowledgement. People do have disagreements with neighbours and that is always unfortunate. In this young man's case it is somewhat more than unfortunate; it can colour someone's entire satisfaction in life, living at fairly close quarters with someone who is unreasonable and hostile and threatening. From our front garden we can look down the street to the houses involved; too close for comfort, yet distant enough that we had no idea what our neighbours were suffering through.