Sunday, June 28, 2009
love thy neighbour
A, Birdie and I have lived at our place for nine months now. Having moved in on Halloween, we had a one night extravaganza to meet and greet our new community via trick-or-treating. Since that time, we didn't truly get familiar with our neighbours until the gardening season commenced. Our place backs up onto an alley so there's a neighbour on each side and at our backs. A knows the folks quite well already - having spending an inordinate amount of time playing and wrangling our outdoor Birdie. The importance of making a neighbourly investment is one that I'm beginning to comprehend since we've literally invested in our living space now.
On one side, we have a family of three girls - the oldest ten years old and the youngest just five. On the other side, we have a house full of everything - grandma, mom, kids, dogs and loads of visitors of every age. On the back, we have two old widows as well as one big family. Down the way... well, you get the scene already.
The Sweet Gals are brilliant, playing with Birdie - on our 'side' or theirs at every waking moment. The Gals call over for her, often disrupting our dinner or morning mellows. Whatever... it's generally a welcome diversion for us all. On the other side 'Garden Grams' is extremely gracious, giving us tips (and plants) for gardening, borrowing us their electric mower, a talking Birdie through a tantrum and on occasion taking the dogs, Birdie inclusive, for a tromp.
Birdie's development is thriving among her community. Her social tendencies are blossoming - yes, a very social gal she is. I'd venture to say that our social inclinations around otherwise perfect strangers, are developing as well. I've noticed that sounds like that of the next-door dogs barking are sounds of comfort to an otherwise temporarily-sad Birdie or a settling-in-for-the-night Birdie. Funny how the unfamiliar sounds of our moving in days are now the lullaby of our home.
Our garden is a good example of our newfound community. We got pumpkins and beans and from Garden Grams, tomatoes from Coke-bottle Lenses (widow - who's garden is a window to his complicated mind), and a rhubarb plant from Self-deprecating Mom directly behind us. Many of our neighbours comment on our garden's progress, never failing to mention the previous owners' pride and success.
The only 'neighbour' we're not all that hot on is the crows, who are murder. Birdie calls 'caw caw' while I curse their preying, stinky existence.
On one side, we have a family of three girls - the oldest ten years old and the youngest just five. On the other side, we have a house full of everything - grandma, mom, kids, dogs and loads of visitors of every age. On the back, we have two old widows as well as one big family. Down the way... well, you get the scene already.
The Sweet Gals are brilliant, playing with Birdie - on our 'side' or theirs at every waking moment. The Gals call over for her, often disrupting our dinner or morning mellows. Whatever... it's generally a welcome diversion for us all. On the other side 'Garden Grams' is extremely gracious, giving us tips (and plants) for gardening, borrowing us their electric mower, a talking Birdie through a tantrum and on occasion taking the dogs, Birdie inclusive, for a tromp.
Birdie's development is thriving among her community. Her social tendencies are blossoming - yes, a very social gal she is. I'd venture to say that our social inclinations around otherwise perfect strangers, are developing as well. I've noticed that sounds like that of the next-door dogs barking are sounds of comfort to an otherwise temporarily-sad Birdie or a settling-in-for-the-night Birdie. Funny how the unfamiliar sounds of our moving in days are now the lullaby of our home.
Our garden is a good example of our newfound community. We got pumpkins and beans and from Garden Grams, tomatoes from Coke-bottle Lenses (widow - who's garden is a window to his complicated mind), and a rhubarb plant from Self-deprecating Mom directly behind us. Many of our neighbours comment on our garden's progress, never failing to mention the previous owners' pride and success.
The only 'neighbour' we're not all that hot on is the crows, who are murder. Birdie calls 'caw caw' while I curse their preying, stinky existence.
