Meet the Neighborhood

If you have been reading along you have already bumped into a few of these people — Jay planting cricket devices, Jock removing floor vents, Heather’s son’s phone calling 911 from inside a purse. But I realized I keep dropping you into stories without ever properly introducing the cast. That is not fair to you and honestly it is not fair to them either. These people deserve a proper introduction.

So here we go. Welcome to our street in the Town of Algoma, Wisconsin. No sidewalks. No street lights. If you walk to a neighbor’s house after dark you are using your phone flashlight to find your way home — something that took a little adjusting to when we first moved out here and now just feels like part of the charm. We have been here over 18 years. Most of our neighbors have too. And somewhere along the way this stopped being a street and started being a family reunion that never quite ends.

We like to think of ourselves as the Desperate Housewives of the Town of Algoma — minus the drama, plus genuinely good people who would do absolutely anything for each other. Including use your garage code while you are at the lake. But you already know that story.

Jay and me

Jay is my husband and the quietest person in any room — but get him around a fire and put a Yeti of Captain and coke in his hands and this husband of mine transitions into another version of himself. This Jay is relaxed. This Jay is, dare I say, loud? This Jay has become the undeniable champion among the men, who make it a contest (drinking game) to be the first to identify the next song within a beat or two, rock or heavy metal being the genre. We met shortly after high school where he was a grade ahead of me and popular in the way football players are. I was the girl who graduated a semester early because study halls made me too antsy, our friend groups never intertwined. Somehow, we found each other anyway.

What I want to say about Jay — and I am saying it here in front of everyone — is that while I have spent our whole marriage looking for the next challenge, the next change, the next thing, Jay has been the constant. The rock. The backbone. He worked nights and swing shifts for years without a single complaint so that our family was taken care of and I had the freedom to figure out who I was. He is steady in a way I have never quite managed to be. I married up and I know it.

Recently the cabin “up north” was sold. Jay hunted. He spent cold Wisconsin mornings alone in the woods in temperatures that would send most reasonable people straight back inside — and he loved every single second of it. Not for the company or the party. For the solace. The quiet.

“Jay has never said he misses the cabin. He does not have to. I know what those mornings meant to a man who carries everything quietly and asks for very little in return.”

Our boys are grown — Cole is nearby with his girlfriend LeAnna and their dog, Juice, who has more energy than everyone in their apartment complex combined. Camden just moved to Green Bay with his girlfriend Mercedes and their cat Ozzy, named after Ozzy Osbourne, which is very fitting as they bonded over their love of music, heavy like Jay likes, and attending live concerts.

And then there is Quinn — eight pounds of Shih Tzu mix who is completely adored by every woman in the neighborhood, I think the men are threatened by her. Jay says he hates her. Jay is a liar.

Sean and Heather

Sean is two houses down and spent years working nights alongside Jay — two men who could not sleep at normal hours, solving this problem the only logical way, which is starting up a fire in the backyard, or sometimes in the driveway up front, while their wives slept sensibly inside. Sean also partakes in the captain and coke ritual, although he does not require liquid courage to bellow out the name of a band or title of a song, it comes very natural to him. Sean also enjoys inviting absolutely everyone he knows. If Sean has a fire going you are invited. I do not care where you live. Sean has thought about it and you are on the group chat/invite.

Heather is warm and wonderful and has a great sense of humor — she needs it, because Heather is also the person whose son Ethan’s phone accidentally called 911 on an illegal pandemic card game from inside her purse on the way out the door. Ethan was not even there. His phone was. Their daughter Emma goes to college nearby and spends a wonderful amount of time with Heather, grabbing a coffer or shopping, and is often seen around the fire bringing a friend, or 4, from school to hang out with us “cool old people”, my words, not hers. Their lab Bentley rounds out their family, because you cannot live in this neighborhood without a dog, or so it seems.

John and Nancy

John and Nancy live right between us and Sean and Heather, perfectly positioned to witness everything and miss nothing. They are right behind us in the empty nest chapter, and I have been quietly preparing my wisdom for when that moment arrives. Their boxer Roman can be seen most days in their front yard, or in the oodles of photos taken by Nancy, who is the neighborhood photographer/historian.

Many of the neighborhoods funniest moments have involved Nancy, she is a joke telling born entertainer, especially among her son’s friend groups. Nancy knows how to throw a party and doesn’t shy away from capturing life to the fullest. Their sons, Luke and Jacob, have had their lives chronicled through Nancy’s photography, both are very talented and ambitious with bright futures ahead of them.

Tom and Karina

I met Karina probably early middle school through a mutual friend. I met Tom when I started high school — they went to different schools, which means Karina technically came first in my life, which feels exactly right to anyone who knows them. And now they live directly behind us, which is either a remarkable coincidence or the universe making a point about certain friendships being non-negotiable.

Karina works at my dentist office, which means she knows my teeth AND has witnessed things around our fire pit that no dental professional should ever have to see. She is also completely and joyfully dog crazy, Tom pretends to object, and then falls completely in love with each new dog she brings home to join their family. Their dogs Oliver and Colt are frequent couch companions for Karina’s other great passion — Hallmark Christmas movies, watched year-round, without apology. I respect it completely.

Tom and Karina have two daughters, Livie and Gabby, and have become grandparents within the last couple of years. We are all extremely envious and see different sides of both of them now, as their worlds revolve around the grandbabies. They are the first to become grandparents in our group, with the exception of Jock.

Mike and Bev

Mike and Bev live a few blocks away but have been completely woven into everything we do for years now. We met them at a fire at Sean and Heather’s and the friendship took hold the way the best ones do — quietly and permanently. They are as much a part of this neighborhood as anyone.

Bev and me are tight, I think it has to do with her being the wittiest person in any room, or so she says. Bev also wins every card game/board game we play. She also keeps the score. I am not drawing any conclusions. Bev has coined herself the most “helpful” person in our group, I am simply noting the facts and moving on.

Bev’s husband Mike showed up to pickleball once and was immediately better than all of us, even although we had taken actual lessons, so there’s that. Mike also prides himself on his grilling abilities, with him spending a good deal of his time in their driveway grilling dinner while watching music videos and possibly playing some cribbage with a friend/neighbor. They have a cottage on Pelican Lake that has been the setting for some of our finest moments — including one involving our garage code, four neighbors, and a set of photo cutouts of my face arranged around our dining room. That story is already on this blog and I encourage you to find it.

Brian and Brittney

Brian and Brittney are a few years in on our street and getting married this June, which the whole neighborhood has been talking about with great enthusiasm. Brittney brings youth and energy to our street – along with their two labradoodles, Jager and Kahlua, yes, they are names after alcohol. When I texted Brittney to let her know I was writing a neighborhood blog, with names/characteristics included, her response was so enthusiastic, she is going to be just fine around here. She already is.

Jock

And then there is Jock.

Jock retired last year. He lives a few doors down and spent years establishing himself as the undisputed architect of neighborhood chaos — a title Jay has been quietly and methodically challenging ever since a certain carved wooden head appeared on our bookshelf and stayed there for months without explanation.

What you need to understand about Jock is the beautiful contradiction at the center of him. This rough around the edges man has the most stunning backyard on the street — immaculate vegetable gardens, flowers everywhere, all tended by his own hands. He will send you home with more tomatoes than you know what to do with. This is the man who planted a mysterious wooden head in our sitting room at a party and said absolutely nothing about it for months, until we questioned him.

Jock has a sweet pit bull named Holly, who wears a pearl necklace collar when it is time to party. Not ironically. Not as a joke. Just because that is simply who she is and who Jock lets her be. If you have a problem with that Holly will hear you out and then ignore you completely.

That’s the neighborhood

Eighteen years of fires and potlucks, card games and bags tournaments, graduation parties and bloody mary crawls across the state of Wisconsin. A man who misses the woods more than he will ever say out loud. A phone that called 911 from inside a purse. A train conductor who just wants everyone around a fire. A woman who wins every card game and also keeps the score. Two labradoodles named after cocktail ingredients. And one pearl necklace wearing pit bull.

These are my people. I hope you love them as much as I do. There are so many more stories where these came from.

Stick around.

New here? Start from the beginning — The Prank War on Our Street is waiting for you.

— Nikki