We have all been subjected to the sounds of grass cutting on a Sunday morning, doef-doef music until the wee hours, yapping dogs, screeching cats and squawking chickens from a neighbouring property while the owners sleep as though they are anaesthetized. You may shout: "Sharrup Bruno," which is obviously ignored.
The other morning an irate neighbour appeared at my front gate threatening to call Noise Control as his mother was having a breakdown because my dog barks all night.
"I don't have a dog," I interrupted. "I thought he was yours."
He glared at me and stomped off to continue his door to door interrogations.
"Don't confront Kobus at Number 4," I warned him. "He is not as friendly as I am."
Kobus, the sole member of the Neighbourhood Watch, erected a treehouse and of an evening, perches there with a Klippies and Coke and a rifle at the fore, surveying the 'hood. So, no more plunging into the pool naked.
Kobus is mates with most of the Ekurhuleni Police Force and those Who Matter in the Municipality. Three years ago, Andries subdivided his property and Kobus told me our new neighbour's name is Ruth.
I am not one to welcome new neighbours with a ribboned basket of homemade muffins, but once, while in the garden, I cheerily said: "Hi Ruth, welcome to ..." and was greeted with: "I am a schoolteacher. You will address me as Madam."
Madam promptly erected a barbed wire fence thus confirming the subdivision between her and Andries and began building her house without plans, according to Kobus.
Madam's bedroom was built over the swimming pool. I don't know of any others in the 'hood with an indoor pool. Especially under their bed. I will have to ask Kobus for verification. He'll know.
Madam's garden soon became a tip of wood, weeds, sand and bricks. I like my garden neat and tidy and have a constant gardener. As he was racing behind the mower, I heard Madam shrieking over the wall: "I'm calling my ex-husband. He is very high up in the police. He'll sort you out. Your garden boy is dirtying my washing with all the dust. You white people think you can do what you like."
Standing on a pile of rubble, Madam held her Smartphone aloft and pressed Ex Husband.
"He's not answering," she glared at me as though it was my fault and said: "Do you have a number for the cops?"
Madam's house was sold at an Auction last Friday. Day and night there is banging and knocking as she removes window frames, sliding doors, bricks and tiles.
According to Kobus, Madam did notify his mate, the Sheriff, of her intentions as she is still the legal owner of the property.
I am looking forward to the exit of Madam Ruthless and welcoming the new neighbour even if he has rowdy dogs, cats and chickens.
Kobus will fire a warning shot and peace will prevail.