It is time, at last, that Bob has his place on the stage of life. Passed by for so long, I give you...Bob.

Bobs' my neighbour. We share a double wide driveway, the front door of his tiny house faces the side of our red brick (at our living room window).. Sometimes, Bob yells in my window "Your phone is ringing, you'd better get that!"

Bob's about 75 years old and has NO hobbies besides people watching and hockey. He used to be a marine and loves to tell stories if you are inclined to listen. I usually listen cuz I hope that someone will find me interesting when I'm 75.

The Mole goes beserk at the start of the nice weather cuz Bob plants himself on his weeny front porch (good thing the door swings inward or he'd be some ugly wallpaper), and watches and listens to all the neighbourhood. We give him tons of good stuff to talk about - daily.

For instance, what does Bob think when he sees me sitting in the back yard with a roll of paper towel, sobbing at the table? Who knows? But he politely leaves me alone and then, the next day says something like, "when was it the kids were leaving home?"

One of his favorite things to do is irritate The Mole. It began innocently enough, but its hard not to recognize that pinched expression and to not know the mole's not irritated. You'd need to be blind and Bob is not blind. In fact his sight and hearing are better than anyones....I know.

But I like Bob. He's a good neighbour. Yeah, he knows too much, but he keeps it to himself. Yeah, he likes being the "Grand PoohBah" of the street, but I think he's earned it. It's his hobby, I guess!