As a rule I don't lend my neighbours money.

Although, when I went out earlier, I noticed that some work-shy shite had just dumped a load of packages at the foot of the door at the bottom of the communal stairwell.

Two packages for No.18 (my very lovely, properly next-door neighbours), one for No.19 (a floor up, not quite so lovely) and two for No.22 (a quite nice family 2 floors up).

Everyone was grateful and there was lots of mutual 'tut-tutting' about the whole affair.

I left each domicile glowing with neighbourly righteousness.

I shall give you positive karma on their behalf.

Nightjar wrote:

As a rule I don't lend my neighbours money.

I didn’t lend her money. She owes me because she damaged something of mine on the hall table, and said she’d cover the loss - which she hasn’t, over a year later, despite my asking twice.

If I’d lent her money, I’d have lent it so she could have the corrective surgery required for her eyelids to be broadly symmetrical instead of what the butcher she went to did to her.

It’s like opening the door to a half melted, blonde Jackie Stallone.

As a rule I don't tend to let my neighbours have access to things on my hall table.

Nightjar wrote:

As a rule I don't tend to let my neighbours have access to things on my hall table.

That’s because the only people who visit you are resting peacefully on Hampstead Heath within an hour of their last sip of whatever you’ve given them.

Elucidate.

I’ve had enough lucidity this week.

My mother has a neighbour who’s always annoyed me. Very bolshy, loud. Lucky basically - loadsamoney, husband several grades better looking than she is, eight holidays a year.

She’s one of these bootstraps ‘I’ve worked hard’ types. At what, who knows, never full time or beyond 40. As my uncle said ‘she’s played her hoop well’, and that’s probably it.

She really offended me in June 2012, without meaning to, and oblivious. Anyway, I thought my anger would fade but it hasn’t. If I was younger I’d put bricks through the b*tches windows.

Is 11 years and 11 months too late to say anything? I see her roughly once a month, busying about, shouting hello in a voice that could shatter glass. I think the time has come.

I suppose my main concern is that she’s so oblivious her reaction won’t be shame or sorrow but ‘what’s your problem?’ and then I’ll really go for her. Which is why I didn’t to start with.

Personally, I'd take the view that, after 12 years , it's not worth the bother, but only you can know whether it'd make you feel better.

You’re right, not worth the bother of explaining to her.

I shall, adopting complete obliviousness, in a friendly tone, say something absolutely unforgivably horrible in passing - at a time of my choosing over the next year or two.