My Neighbor

Meet my neighbor, Jeannette. She and her Hungarian husband, Joseph, live down the hall from me. While they live in Boca Raton, Florida for most of the year, they are now renting in Budapest to escape the heat and hurricanes of Florida. Jeanette, a native English speaker, yells in English to Joseph, a rather rotund, 70ish and somewhat scantily clad Hungarian (from what i can tell boxers sans t-shirt is the preferred outfit). Joseph yells and grumbles back at her in his native Hungarian. I havent figured out if they really understand each other, but I guess at this point it probably doesn't matter. Jeannette and I speak about every day, although the conversations rarely, if ever, depart from two central topics: (1) her teeth (she has had multiple teeth removed in Hungary and as of today has a new bridge); (2) impending hurricanes in Florida and her philosophies of why they are occurring (too much partying before the Lords Day (Ash Wednesday). I know more about Hungarian dental practices then I ever dreamed that one could know---and am considering opening up my own private practice in my sitting room. Fortunately, Jeannette keeps an eye out on my flat for me and informs me of all of the comings and goings around my flat, who has stopped by, what they were wearing and why they were visiting. It's as if I have my own private security guard that I don't even have to pay (except in salt or herbs when she has run out). If only she could help me keep track of my things inside my flat, such as where I put my parmasan cheese (recently bought from the fancy cheese shop down the street, and it cost me 4 bucks)--she might be really useful. They will be departing at the end of October for the warmth of the Florida sun---and I have to say they will be sorely missed.