I'm a simple woman in some respects. There are a few really easy ways to make me happy. Let me play with cats. Let me stay at home, off my feet, and sit and watch a movie with me. I really like that one. Join me for a meal, and be cool with my dietary restrictions. All of these little things bring me joy. So it should come as no surprise that when we were choosing our forever house, I had one really important wish, that would thrill me to my very core. I wanted a neighbor who was so comfortable with me/us that he or she (or both) would be able to casually walk into my house with barely a knock, and who was equally blase about my presence that they allowed me similar freedom to enter their home. When we moved here, on the very same day that our neighbor closed on his home, I had hopes that as cohorts, we would have something in common. When the single man introduced himself, and shared the detail that his favorite things to do most weekends were to brew beer and smoke meat, I immediately knew that he and Mr S-P had a good chance of being friends. He and I got to know each other a little while we built a privacy fence in place of chain link, and soon thereafter, we watched a little football together that first autumn, where we started to bond. He stuck with me during my year of hell in 2016. And when I went ahead and paid for Sunday Ticket that fall, he came over frequently to watch Kansas City football with me. (We still laugh that Athena had started to be friends with him until that first really amazing touchdown, when he jumped up and yelled so loudly that she didn't trust him again for a year.)
We exchanged keys years ago. He has been over to take care of my cats and dogs as needed, and I have become Barley's Auntie Anne. I'm not sure when the dream was fully realized, but at the very latest by last fall, he started coming in after a quick knock. I do the same at his house, like last week when he was painting his office and his music was turned up loud. On those occasions I try to speak loudly to Barley so he has a heads up that I'm in his space. A few days before that, he showed up to a scheduled meeting just slightly early, while I was obtaining laundry from the top of the dryer. I called out, "Um, you don't want to be here yet. I'm putting on leggings in the kitchen, and other than that, I'm only wearing a towel that keeps falling open." That's the only time in a year that I had to shoo him out of the house, even briefly.
Tonight was D&D at his house. As per usual, I went over in soft clothes and house slippers. I went back and forth a handful of times, so that I could keep my dinner gluten free. It's so natural to me now, wandering between the houses twice a week, sharing food and booze. The rest of the gang who come over those nights know our two houses as well as their own. When I don't feel like walking back for a third or fourth trip, I can count on any one of them to know exactly where to find what we need. We have long since passed the "can I borrow a cup of sugar" phase. This is all I ever wanted, and I hope it lasts a long, long time.
One thing that was less than ideal: we started smoking tri-tip for tonight's dinner at 9 this morning. We were in the back yard, with all the dogs and a couple of the cats. The neighbors across the alley out back are people I have never spoken to. The wife showed up calling through the fence, asking what the smoke was, worried that our yard had caught fire. She was just trying to be neighborly, I'm sure. But all three dogs went nuts, and I couldn't understand anything, and I really wasn't sure she was speaking to me. I got suddenly shy and didn't run over to open the gate to explain what was happening. The Mr did, after a minute, but I chickened out. Maybe later I can make it up and build a bridge across the back fences as well. I just failed today. (Since it was D&D night, let's just say I rolled a natural 1.)
No comments:
Post a Comment