I moved here without knowing anyone. The luckiest thing is that I have wonderful neighbors who are also friends. I’m so happy it turned out this way! Sometimes we even have adventures together in the wilds of Colorado. Last spring, we had two adventures hiking in Penitente Canyon. Among our adventures we’ve explored the Great Sand Dunes, learned more about Del Norte, looked at the work of local artists, walked along the river. 🙂
We shovel each others walks. We drink tea at each others houses. We look out for each others property, all the things you would expect neighbors to do and be. I take the neighbor relationship pretty seriously. My neighbor helped me put up a fence to keep Bear in the side yard. My neighbors read — and love — my novels. ❤ I think my main contribution to our relationship is that I’m usually ready to go on an adventure and when we go, we all have a lot of fun.
I have also — through my life — found that neighbors are a kind of family. When I lived in the ‘bad’ neighborhood in San Diego, City Heights, my neighbors and I were not just close in terms of physical proximity, but close enough that our block was a little village of people caring for each other. The neighbor relationship was a deterrent to crime. When the neighbor relationships broke down — as when my neighbor across the street died and her house was empty — crime sneaked back in. Her house was later bought by a man and his wife who had always lived in the hood and loved it. Her little house was a dream come true for them. The fortifications were again in place.
When I sold my house many years later, I sold it to my next-door neighbor’s daughter. I made the deal with her myself, and we both “used” my real estate agent. It was an easy deal and I was very happy. I left behind my mother’s china (which I didn’t want and the girl loved). Inside the cupboard doors I taped photos of what the house had been like 17 years before when my ex and I had bought it. It had been a crack house. All of those things meant a lot to her. It was not just a house to her. It was next door to her mom and in the neighborhood where she’d grown up.
That last story was so very sweet 🙂
Yep. I’d known her since she was in jr. high. I’d watched her and her friends practice dancing for her quinceañera, music coming out of a boombox resting on the hood of the car in the driveway, boys wearing the “cholo” look of the 90s, girls, too, flannel shirts and jeans, dancing and giggling. It was so beautiful. La vita é bella.
I appreciated the last story as well, it was touching indeed. Especially leaving pictures of what the house originally looked like. It’s indeed a delight and a treasure in life when you can find neighbours who become family. That is special in and of itself! 🙂
It really is. 🙂 I’m also lucky now in the people who live around me. I like them very much.
Isn’t that wonderful! I’ve never had that other than a nod over the fence. You are so lucky.
I know I’m lucky, especially as when I moved here I knew no one and ended up in the middle of houses in which there were people who would become friends. 🙂
That truly touches my heart. You are such an interesting, perceptive and valuable woman. I am sure that you are considered the same by these warm hearted people as well.
🙂
https://theglobalaussie.com/blog/liebster-award-2017/ I’ve taken the liberty of nominating you for the Liebster award 🙂
Thank you but I don’t do awards. And this one should go to a new blogger — I’m like grandma blogger at this point. ❤
You are luckier than you know! It is a rare and wonderful thing, good neighbors. We had them in Boston. Not so much here.
I think I know 😀😊💕
It is the memories that we shared with our house than count. I grew up in a very old house, no bathroom, no running hot water, but survived and we even had our good times there. Today everything is so clinical and perfect.
When neighbors become family, that is the best! This was such a great post, Martha.
Thank you! 🙂