Just after I turned nineteen the elderly couple next door sold up and moved to a retirement home. My family had always got along well with them and we were quite sorry to see them go and wondered what the new neighbours would be like.
Due to circumstances there wasn't a fence between the two properties. The main reason for this was that the fence had been very elderly and in need of replacement, but neither my parents or the couple next door were in a rush to pay for a new one. Then came this really nasty storm and instead of a fence we had a pile of lumber scattered around the yard.
After the junk had been carted to the tip my father came to an agreement with our neighbours. We wouldn't rebuild the fence just yet, not seeing any real need for it. On top of that my father told the Morrisons that when we mowed our lawns we'd also do theirs. (Easy for him to promise that as he wasn't the one who did the actual mowing. That was my job.)
The new neighbours moved in and they seemed reasonable people. At least the parents did. They also had a daughter, Naomi. She was eighteen, blonde, hazel eyes, excellent figure, and an overweening opinion of herself.
I met her the Saturday after they moved in. Our grass was getting a bit long and I was mowing the lawn. Out of habit I just kept going and moved onto the neighbour's lawn. I was about half way through when Naomi came storming out.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded.
I looked at her, looked down at the mower, and looked around at the half cut lawn.
"It's called mowing the lawn," I told her. "It's where you get a machine called a motor-mower," I indicated said mower, "and run it over the grass to trim it to a short length. Sort of like giving the ground a haircut."
She gave me a very nasty look. I could see we going to get along fine, like a belligerent cat and dog.
"No-one asked you to," she snapped. "We're not paying you for work we didn't ask for."
Seeing my pay rate was zero dollars I thought they could probably afford it but if they didn't want to that was fine by me. A lot less work.
"If that's what you want," I said agreeably.
"It is, now push off," she snapped, which I thought was just plain rude.
I turned and headed towards my own yard, muttering just loud enough for her to hear.
"Trust a blonde bimbo to stiff a guy of his pay. Probably won't give me a tip either."
I won't say what she replied to that but it wasn't polite.
My father, old eagle-eye himself, naturally spotted the half mown condition of the neighbour's lawn and queried me on the matter. I simply told him that I'd started to mow it from habit and Naomi requested that I not do so. He simply nodded and that was the end of the subject.
That meeting set the tone for my association with Naomi. Whenever we met she was all hissing and claws, quick with the insults. I, for my part, was most forbearing, not deigning to stoop to the petty insults she so freely bandied about. Mind you, I might have hinted that a person of her poor intelligence was to be pitied, but I didn't actually say so. Also it was from a sense of genuine concern when I asked her if she really ought to go swimming.
"Why on earth wouldn't I?" she asked.
"Oh, it's just that silicon has a greater density than natural fat," I told her, "and the extra weight might pull you down."
I happened to be looking at her very prominent chest when I gave her that bit of advice, subsequent to which I learnt a lot about my ancestry, none of it good.
After our two families had known each other for a while it turned out that both sets of parents had several common interests. Football was one of them. They all followed the same team. For some reason I just wasn't interested in football. I preferred more cerebral games, belonging to a chess club and doing quite well in tournaments. Not a Grand Master, or even close, but not too bad. I also preferred gymnastics for my exercise. Again, not a champion, but quite good.
