I have lost my words for a few days. Once lost, it takes some work to coax them back. So I am limbering up these tired old fingers. I’m pecking away on the keyboard, one word at a time, one slow thought at a time.
Our raised beds are all built, lined and filled with topsoil – all four of them. Two of them are planted. Two more to go. They are looking quite handsome but I am sure some irate neighbour will find some fault even though it is on our property. Such is my neighbourhood. I am so envious of hearing others talk about their neighbours and a sense of community.
Not that my neighbours are such terrible people. But I have not felt a sense of community amid them for a long time. I hear their sad stories about their troubled teens, ugly husbands, messy divorces. I tolerate their shouting matches and loud music. They complain about my dog. Sometimes they make more noise than Sheba.
But I feel a change in the air. The ‘hood is changing. Or maybe it is I who is changing.