There goes the neighborhood

For Seana and anyone else who didn't hear about the excitement in my sleepy little neighborhood this summer. My house in on the highway and there are 5 homes in a row. We're spaced out fairly well but we're fairly close by boonie standards. The first house is a tiny little thing and it's owned by Buddy. Iris is his common-law wife. Her dad lived with them. During the summer, like us, they'd live at their cottage.

On Labor Day weekend we were out floating around in the middle of the lake when the cell phone rang and we heard that Iris's dad had been murdered in the house. Then we found out it was Buddy's son that shot him. I was totally freaked. I still can't believe that it happened. The freakiest part is that this time a year ago, Buddy and his son were borrowing our garage to do a bunch of work on a car. I still find it difficult to wrap my head around the thought that a murderer was on my property. Well, technically he wasn't a murderer then, but you know what I mean.

The son asked Dave what he owed him for the use of the garage and Dave told him to give us each a tattoo (seeing as the son was a tattoo dude) and he'd call it even. The first thing I thought of when I heard was "There goes our tattoos!" *snicker*

The house sits empty now. It wasn't much of a prize to begin with. There's a river that runs past (read: through) it and last summer it flooded and washed out the highway. That family has very bad luck. I'd be afraid of next summer arriving if I were them.