the neighbors | The Oasis at Four Queen Palms

The weather was beautiful these past days – warmth, sun, and more time outdoors to catch a few rays and smell the freshness of springtime. I like the coolish mornings that slowly warm up to a cozy heat by noontime.

Earlier today, I was thinking about being at the pool. As of this writing, the neighborhood beach pool is still under reconstruction. You see, it was sinking, and the entire pool had to be completely rebuilt. Nonetheless, my thoughts went to last summer when I was at the neighborhood pool last week with Best Friend. We happened upon two neighbors who began talking to Best Friend. Eventually, I was able to contribute to the conversation, and that’s a story for another day.

Well, Mr. Neighbor constantly called me by a different name during this conversation. And I constantly corrected him. But either he didn’t care, or he didn’t understand what my name is.

Mrs. Neighbor overheard this, and she also attempted to correct him, but in a way that subtly made fun of my name. So, she was a bit cutting, too.

I gave up on them and swam away. I don’t know whatever I did or said to them. In fact, I didn’t meet them until that day, and this whole episode with him purposely calling me by another name and she getting mocking flabbergasts me. Their actions pretty much tells me what their demeanor is anyway.

Who needs to be around ghastly people like them? I certainly don’t.

It is the height of disrespectfulness for someone to call another by a name that isn’t theirs and especially when corrected.

That is the state of this neighborhood and unfortunately, the world at large. Little disrespect for neighbors and acquaintances is the new sport.

It makes me sick.

As ever,

The eastern sky was colored a bright pinkish-orange as I looked across the meadow behind The Oasis at Four Queen Palms. Happy for a new day, I headed down to the kitchen to pour myself a cup of cold coffee with milk – my version of café au lait. With cup in hand, I walked to the window overlooking the terrace, and by this time, the sun was just over the horizon, looking like a fiery orange ball. The pond sparkled as though a million diamonds danced upon the surface. A lone hawk circled high above. And there, the day began.

I received a strange survey of sorts (I think that’s what it was) through my Goodreads account; a neighbor asked if I still live here at The Oasis. After answering her, she wrote back with a statement that I wrote a book or two recently. (As if I didn’t know that fact!) So how did I answer that? Well, I replied to her with a, “Imagine that!” I heard back with a strange response – “Happy trails!” she wrote. I suspect I won’t hear back from her for another two years, because that was the last time something like this happened with her, when she messaged me about her “handsomest father who ever lived” and comments about her neighbors, none of whom I know. I don’t get it. I suspect I won’t hear from her for another two years, because that was the last time she contacted me. I never even met her in person.

Something like that used to bug me, but now I just laugh it off. People are people, and I’m not going to guess or psychoanalyze their motives. That sort of “hit and run” action seems to be the norm these days. It’s much like the “hit and run” Best Friend and I encountered last autumn by a relative, and *Poof!* she disappeared as quickly as she popped up.

The news is much like that, too, in the current news cycle. One day, we learn about spy balloons, the next day it’s the hubbub of a mass murder, and the next is the screaming of a post-Constitutional America. News today seems to be more like attention-getting than unbiased reporting as it’s supposed to be.

Ah, well, that is ancient history.

This is the new world – the bombardment of spewing about events, screaming deceit, ginning up violence.

Everybody has an opinion, but who is really listening?

As ever,

The Oasis at Four Queen Palms

Gracious Living at The Oasis.

Category Archives: the neighbors

Name Calling.

Hit and Run.