Neighbors

We've all had bad neighbors.  Not much you can do about it except mind your own business and hope they mind theirs.  But I've seen people build eight foot fences to visually separate themselves from their hated neighbors.  That kind of puts their business out there for everyone to see, don't you think?

Where I live, there is only one other house near mine.  My neighbors and I don't have a lot in common.  We are separated by age, by politics, by taste in music, and by pet preferences, among other things.  For instance, I have a cat.  My neighbors have a pig.  (They used to have a rooster.)  They also have six dogs, two of whom still come over here looking for Mack, the dog I used to have.  Whenever they do, my memory immediately calls up the image of my Golden boy, tail wagging in excitement over his visitors, and I am filled with my love for him again.  So I don't mind the visitors.  They miss him, too.

I cannot imagine better neighbors than mine.  Although we may view the world differently in some ways, I think we have the utmost respect for each other's opinions.  We have had some intense conversations about politics, but we have never gotten angry at one another.  As I am very passionate about politics, this is really saying something.  My neighbors' sons each did two tours in Afghanistan, and there was not a day that went by that I didn't think of their mother's pain and worry or of their safety.  I still worry about what scars that war left on them.

The thing about my neighbors is that they look out for me.  This is never more obvious than when there is a snowstorm, but there are so many other things they do for me.  I am the kind of woman determined to do things for myself, from shoveling eight tons of black dirt into raised beds in my garden to climbing a ladder to wash down the log walls of my house.  I can manage most things.  But there are times when upper body strength just isn't there.  I can call my neighbor and he will come and help me out.  Or maybe I'm out of town and I'm not going to make it home in time to feed Mack (when I still had him).  I can call my neighbor and she will come over and be my dog's best friend.  Although I try to reciprocate, my neighbors do much more for me than I am able to do for them.

And this brings me to the oil delivery truck problem that I wrote about yesterday.  My neighbors came to my rescue, clearing out the base of my driveway with every tool, vehicle and product at their disposal.  And yes, the oil truck was able to deliver!  My warmth is secure!  (Assuming, that is, that the pending storm isn't accompanied by a power outage.)

Today, I am in love with the blessing of good neighbors.  No fences required.