A good neighbor is a fellow who smiles at you over
the back fence, but doesn’t climb over it.
— Arthur Baer
We are blessed with good neighbors.
When we returned home from our 10-week sojourn on Sunday, the former owner of our house — who now lives down the street and with whom we are friends (we do have the same taste in houses, after all) called us within 90 minutes to check in (he could hardly miss the 38-foot motor home in the driveway). I was welcomed home on Facebook by several neighbors. As I walked around the neighborhood this morning, I was greeted by two more neighbors.
In his neighborly way, Tyler checked in with both next-door neighbors who kept watch over our residence while we were gone. I hear more than a couple of neighbors chipped in on snow removal in front of our house when two feet of snow fell during the blizzard on the first of February. It’s a good thing, it turned out, because Tyler made an emergency trip home from Texas two weeks later, and he might not have made it to the garage to even find a shovel without their help.
Though I sometimes complain about Hampshire’s lack of character in the sense of its individuality, this little village has an abundance of character in the way of its individual residents’ integrity and consideration.
Thanks for good neighbors.