It Must Be the Weather

I don’t know what’s up with my neighbors. They are all acting, well, neighborly. And I didn’t do a dang thing to encourage it.

Friday I came home and found a note on my door. I wasn’t surprised, driving in I’d seen many notes on many doors. I was expecting it to be something inconsequential from the new owners. They’d already reminded us about the parking rules, the laundry room hours, and the noise ordinance. This note however had consequence. All lawns with growth over three inches tall needed to be trimmed immediately, or they would be trimmed by the management and the resident would be charged a $45.00 fee.

The worst part of that is, I don’t have a lawn. I have a dirt lot. However, we’ve had a very wet winter, and my backyard is full of thistles between three and four feet tall. How was I supposed to get rid of them? Those suckers don’t just pull out of the ground. Their roots are at least as long as the plants are tall.

I wasn’t about to go buy a lawn mower or a weed-eater. First off, I’d only have reason to use it once or twice a year. Second, I am supposed to be moving this summer (still don’t know where!) and have put a moratorium on all buying. Anything I purchase will either have to be packed or sold — and I’ve already got enough selling to do. So, I figured that meant I would have to fork over bucks, and I grumbled at the thought.

As I came home from church today I noticed a lot of yards looking spiffy. I stepped from my car and could hear a Weedeater working away. As I sat at my computer I marveled at how close the Weedeater sounded. Seemed like it was practically in my backyard. Soon it sounded like it was in my front yard! I heard dirt and gravel hit my house. I got up and walked toward the door — just as the engine died and a knock sounded. I opened the door.

One of my neighbor’s, Doug, stood here, a Weedeater in one hand and a rake in the other. “I knocked’em down for ya,” he said. “After ya clean’em up, take the rake to my missus.” He turned away, flipped the Weedeater back on and moved to the next person’s yard.

When I walked down the block to return the rake to Doug’s wife, several other people were gathered at the fence. It seems Doug just couldn’t stand the thought of people having to pay big bucks for 10 minutes work, and he had nothing better to do with his Sunday afternoon, anyway. They refused any and all offers of money. “Just being neighborly,” they said.

26 thoughts on “It Must Be the Weather

  1. That is way too cool. We got new neighbors late summer, early fall and we went through and mowed their lawn prior to them moving in as we knew that the last thing on a persons mind when they moved in was getting out the lawn mower and mow the lawn.

    Glad your neighbors were neighborly so you didn’t have to go out with your scissors and cut the thistles down that way. LOL

  2. Jill — especially in this city. I was amazed.

    Kat — now that I’ve decided to move, I am finally feeling better about living here. :p

    Angela — but folks in Lewiston have always made good neighbors. They still chat with each other over the fences and speak the same language. And I wouldn’t have gone out with my scissors I was going to pay and gripe.

  3. OC — a friendly virus? They must not replicate as quickly as their less wholesome brethern.

    Gawpo — my curtains are closed, and even if they weren’t I expect the neighbors would be complaining, not coming to visit.

  4. Dr. John — it is so wierd. For a year, they ignored me and I ignored them. It was a comfortable arrangement, but this new one feels a bit safer.

    Lori — my wanting to move has nothing to do wih my neighbors, and everything to do with dust, sand, grime, no moisture, no green, no O’Ceallaigh.

  5. It’s great to get glimpses into ‘grace’ through other people sometimes…

    Oh dear, that sounded a bit ‘holy’, what I meant to say was that sometimes we realise that people aren’t all bad.

    Nope, that’s not right either.

    Encouraging story, thanks for sharing.

    That’ll do.

  6. Alastair — careful, you’ll start sounding like a preacher!

    Bill — they are nice people. The world needs more neighbors like them, so it isn’t as surprising when we find them.

  7. When we moved to Perry it was 6 months before we ever met our neighbors. Everyone kept to themselves- sure different from back home…once we met them though, they all proved to be very nice.

    Here, neighbors help each other when necessary- wood bees, etc..and sometimes they run each other off with shotguns, like Marv P. did when he couldn’t otherwise get rid of some carolers one Christmas.

  8. Quilly, I sure hope my comment doesn’t disappear on YOUR blog. I was over here checking in when your comment came in that said that your comment disappeared from my LOG (land of gawpo) Blog.

    Sell the thistle flowers to the squirrels. They sometimes think they are artichokes. Works almost every time. I get my huge nuts from them in trade. (cuz that’s where the smart ones always bite when angered about getting ripped off with my thistle trick)

  9. Gawpo — the squirrels in Las Vegas do not inhabit trees. I try to avoid them. You can trade thistle flowers, nuts, bites or whatever you want with them, but I would advise approaching them with extreme caution, rubber gloves and penicillin.

  10. Gawpo — and a full-body condom.

    Nessa — it was nice. I think he whole neighborhood was happy.

    David — thank you for visiing my blog. I’m glad you appreciated the story.

  11. YAY! My faith in mankind has been restored! Thanks Quilly! My hubbies big contribution to society is to plow all the neighborhood driveways when it snows! THEY think he’s bein’ nice — truth is we have the only UNPAVED driveway on the culdesac – and he likes to play on his tractor! Therefore, THEIR driveways are more fun than ours!!! LOL! ( I say… whatever works! He does the Lord’s work without knowin’ it! )

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