Her name isn't Netta. But since I don't have her permission, I feel the need to protect her privacy. Not that she ever shows us the same courtesy. I have a feeling I will have more stories to share about Netta. For now, here is the conversation today:
Me: Hi, Netta! Isn't this weather beautiful?
Netta: It's a little chilly. I saw you and your husband walking to the greenbelt.
Me: Oh?
Netta: Yes, I saw you were going to go play ball.
I should probably explain that Netta lives two doors down, so the only way she would see us going the opposite direction is if she had her face glued to the window watching the neighborhood. I guess I'll share another Netta moment from when we first moved here.
Netta: I noticed you don't have a hedge trimmer.
[What?! Who notices that you don't have a hedge trimmer?? Was she inspecting our freshly mowed lawn and noticed the ends weren't very tidy?]
Ryan: Well, no, we don't. This is our first house and we barely bought the lawn mower.
Netta: I still have the one my husband left me when he died.
Ryan: Okay?
Netta: I'll sell it to you for $40.
As well as being nosy, she is also quite the saleswoman.
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