DEAR IRIS

A series of vintage-style photos showing someone reading letters and drinking coffee at a rustic wooden table.
SUNDAY - MARCH 15, 2026



Dear Iris,


Yesterday I received an unpleasant phone call from an 86 year old woman who lives across the street. Until now, I did not even realize there was a woman living there. In the ten years I have lived in this neighborhood, I have only ever seen a man come and go from that house, and he never speaks to anyone.


She found my number on our neighborhood phone list and left a message on my voicemail saying she was watching me from her window. She accused me of parking my car in front of her house and said I had no right to park there. She also claimed my car alarm had gone off and nearly gave her a heart attack. She insisted that I block her trash cans every week and demanded that I call her immediately.


I returned the call and explained that she must be confusing me with someone else. My car is always parked in my driveway. The only time it sits on the street is for about two hours on Mondays while my gardener works at my house. As soon as he finishes, I move it back into the driveway. Trash pickup on our street is Thursday, and her cans remain behind her gate until that morning. I have never blocked them.


She hung up on me.


We live on a calm street with plenty of open parking, and in all the years I have lived here there has never been a dispute between neighbors. Still, I now have an uneasy feeling when I go outside, knowing she may be watching me from her window.


How should I handle this moving forward?


Thanks,

Liv

Dear Liv,


An unexpected scolding from across the street can leave a sour feeling that lingers long after the phone is hung up. A home should feel like a place of ease. When tension arrives from a neighbor’s window, it can make stepping outside feel uncomfortable.


Your explanation to her was clear and respectful. You answered the complaint directly and set the facts straight. That is exactly what good neighbors do.


There is another piece to remember here. At eighty six, a person’s world often grows much smaller than it once was. In many American neighborhoods decades ago, front porches were busy places. Women watched children ride bicycles, kept an eye on the street, and knew which car belonged to which family. As years pass and mobility fades, that watchful habit sometimes remains, even when the street has changed and the neighbors are strangers.


You cannot control what she thinks she sees from her window. You can control the tone you bring to the street.


Offer a small gesture of goodwill. A plate of shortbread or a small tin of biscuits with a box of English tea is perfectly fitting. Wrap it in brown paper, tuck in a simple handwritten note, and give it to the gentleman you see coming and going. Introduce yourself as the neighbor across the street.


Kindness has a way of settling small storms.


One day that same watchful woman may notice a package on your porch, a strange car lingering too long, or something else that deserves a second glance. Streets have always been safer when neighbors know one another.


Begin there.


Steadily yours,

Iris ✍︎


Vintage toile pattern featuring farm animals, trees, and pastoral scenes in black and white.
A vintage-styled photo series shows someone reading and writing letters at a rustic wooden table with coffee and books.
write to dear iris✍︎ Every letter begins with a story.

There are seasons in life when the heart feels certain, and others when it feels tangled. You may be standing at a crossroads in marriage. You may be carrying a private disappointment. You may simply need someone steady to help you sort through what you already know but cannot quite name.

Write To Dear Iris