Freak out...

I was walking back from feeding the turtles – Sunday morning gig – and I took the path back that would allow me to sticky beak at my neighbour’s homes. I live in a new area so the houses are neat and well kept and haven’t got the 40 – 50 year sag to them. The other thing is they have multitudes of plants, garden furniture, elaborate terracotta and glazed garden pots and things like huge ceramic turtles – yes, I must get me one of those - and fountains. All in the front yard. In plain sight. For all to see. In easy reach of light fingered people – yet nothing gets nicked (‘stolen in’ Yankee-speak). It took me a long while to grasp that I could place stuff like that outside the front door and no one would take it. No one. In Brisbane they would nick it in a heart beat. But here? There’s this weird 1950’s respect vibe in the neighbour. People, in family groups, walk together past the houses, chatting and laughing. Kids ride bikes and scooters and chat to each other as they do. Groups of teenagers walk on by giggling. Giggling for god sake. They’re supposed to be swearing and smoking dope and getting pregnant. There are times I swear I have walked into an alternate universe. No, I’m not naïve. My spidey sense is always alert for trouble yet I find nothing to alarm me...spooky.