When you think Tim McGraw

... think of my next door neighbor.

We moved in August to this little Norman Rockwell looking neighborhood. It's crazy how quaint it is. 90% of the houses have front porches... everyone has beautifully manicured lawns, cul-de-sacs, it's just precious. But the thing that's been the most surprising to us, was that we hadn't met very many of the neighbors. Not that we expected everyone to be showing up with casserole dishes when we moved in. Ok maybe. At least cookies. But we hadn't met hardly anyone.

We have a corner lot that backs up to a cul-de-sac, so out our back windows, or back deck, we look right into someone's front yard. And we frequently see a man out in the driveway working on stuff.... smoking, and talking on a cell phone. He wears a do-rag, early 40's, with a goatee. Due to a crazy resemblance - from the distance - we nicknamed him Tim McGraw. And the joke was Faith must not let him smoke in the house. Every time we've talked about him for 2 months, he's been Tim McGraw.

So last weekend there was a community wide garage sale. Great chance to get out and meet the neighbors. Met tons of people, lots of families with small children, when Delaynie's old enough to babysit, she's going to make a fortune. So I wander over to "Tim McGraw's" house. There's an older lady in the driveway talking to a customer and she calls out "Tim how much do you want for this?" It was all I could do not to bust out laughing.

I introduced myself and Tim (I forget his last name, but it wasn't McGraw) introduced me to his mom -- who also happens to be named Joyce. We had a lovely chat, the mom & dad and Tim all live there, they have little dogs, just as sweet a little ole lady as you could hope to have for a neighbor. Delaynie went over and met them later and I had visions of them sitting on the rocking chairs together talking or her walking their dogs. Because that's what you do in Norman Rockwell neighborhoods.

I had started this post last night - I've had Taylor Swift going in my head since Saturday. I was midway through that last paragraph when I heard an argument in Tim's driveway. His house sits perpendicular to mine, so his driveway runs along our property line, which thankfully has a high wooden privacy fence.

About the time I got up to go look out the window and see what was going on... I heard a gunshot. Never heard a real gunshot before. A decade of living in a very working class, mixed race neighborhood, the last few with ghetto trash neighbors that I'm sure were fighting pit bulls, never heard a gunshot. That's the kind of thing that happens in the 'hood. Not in Norman Rockwell neighborhoods.

Long story (it was a very long night) short... Tim was shot in the leg by some crazy older relative who is, for the moment, in jail. Tim's parents are renting that house, and hopefully, will not be my neighbors much longer. The homeowner's association is working on that -- apparently it's not the first disturbance on that property, but it is the first time the police have been called.

If I get new neighbors, I'm going to bring them a casserole.