Front Porch Rambles

The old man who lived across the street sometimes glared at Jeremy while he sat smoking, his lawn waiting very patiently for a trim.  In the 8 years he had lived here, he had never learned the man's name.  So long after moving to the neighborhood it would have been awkward to seek introductions.  Jeremy thought of him as a man with nothing else to do but dedicate himself to a nicely tended lawn and well maintained landscaping.  This was in part due to the spotless emerald carpet that left no doubts as to property lines, but also due to the 8 plastic cans in varying hues that appeared on the curb every Monday morning on yard waste day.  Without fail, Jeremy had never seen less than 3 bins out week after week.  He sometimes wondered if the old man was slowly digging out an in ground pool in the backyard, or perhaps something more nefarious.  No, there was the old woman, poking her head out to check on his progress.  This was real life after all, n...