I’m 58 and I’ve run out of patience with my nosey neighbour across the street—she monitors my every …

Im fifty-eight and honestly, Im at my wits end with my neighbour across the road. It feels as though her sole purpose in life is to keep tabs on my every move. She knows, to the minute, when the grocery delivery turns up, whether its from the supermarket or just a takeaway, how many bags the poor driver lugs up the path, and precisely who puts them away. If the postman happens to be late with a parcel, youd think it was front page news the way she reports it the next morning, her voice brimming with that familiar self-importance.

But it doesnt stop there, not by a long shot. She seems to have made it her mission to monitor my entire routine. She clocks the precise day and time I put the bins out, counts the bags, and comments if theres the slightest irregularitytwo bags one week, three the next, she has something to say. And heaven forbid if one bin evening passes by and Ive nothing to leave out; shell question that too. There was even a day she asked me outright if I ever throw out food, as if its some public matter and shes entitled to the answer. I just stared at her, wondering at what point my bin became village property.

Then theres my dogCharlie. Hes a gentle soul, not much bigger than a loaf of bread, and hardly dangerous, but he likes to announce himself if someone passes the front gate. Each time he barks she treats it like a declaration of war. Shell march to my door in the evening, reciting the precise number of times he barked, the exact hours, and her imagined reasons for each outburstalways when Im at work and least able to check for myself. Sometimes I genuinely believe shes in tune with the ebb and flow of my household more closely than I am.

My husband isnt spared this scrutiny either. On nights he arrives home a bit late from work, Ill hear about it the next day: You were up late last night, or He only got in at midnight, didnt he? If he gets home too early, suddenly shes asking if hes ill or, worse, if hes lost his job. She misses nothing, comments on everything, and never confronts me directly, preferring instead to let her observations travel through the grapevine until they get back to me, thoroughly twisted.

And my sixteen-year-old daughter, Emily, is forever under her magnifying glass. Whenever Emily leaves the house with friends, our neighbour peers out from behind her curtain, counting teenagers as they come and go, taking mental notes of who visits, what time, how long they stay. Once, she told another neighbour that girl is out all hours, as if she was talking about her own child. That was the final straw, and I confronted herI couldnt let that sort of disrespect go unchecked.

The worst part is, this isnt someone whos just recently moved in. Shes lived here her whole life, as have I. My house belonged to MumGod rest her souland I inherited it as her only daughter. I have no intention of moving, not for anyone. I love this home, the memories, the space. The real issue is not the house, but being forced to share my daily life with someone who simply cannot grasp the concept of boundaries.

By now, I feel like Ive tried everything. Ive ignored her, smiled politely, been bluntnone of it makes a difference. Shes always watching, always judging, always ready with an opinion or a tale to tell. What I want to know is: how do you handle a neighbour like that without losing your own peace? How do you set limits without sparking a row, but still make it clear that your business is yours alone?

Does anyone have any advice?