I have made friends with the Scot who lives over the road from us .... mainly because we share a jaundiced view of life, the Welsh and suffer similar ailments. His wife is dying and taking a long time over it, he is manic depressive (Bi-polar), or so the doctors say, but like me he argues he is not depressed, simply pissed off ~ when not pissed off he is usually simply pissed.
I speak to others in and around the village who I have got to know over the nine years we have lived here. I know them either through the magazine or because they too have children. Kids and dogs usually get one talking to others at the school gate or in the park. People tend to come to me for information or help because I edit and publish the magazine.
As for the actual next door neighbours .... never talk to them. One side the property is rented and occupied by a bunch of odd balls from a far eastern clime and on the other side they are Welsh and thus beyond comprehension. One old dear, in her eighties, who lives behind us we speak to and exchange Christmas cards with but that has been since her husband died four years ago and somebody has to keep an eye on her. We sometimes do her shopping and stuff. Most other people I exchange a nod with and that is about it.
