It was a mild weekend. Everyone was putting up lights, decorations.
I love these bows on a neighbour’s fence. Makes the house look like a big present.Print
There’s a fence between us and our neighbours to the east. It’s weird.
The fence isn’t weird. It’s just that we’ve never had a fence the whole almost ten years we’ve lived here.
Our last neighbour had two kids my daughter’s age and they played and we never – either house – got around to building a fence. I think there were times both of us would have liked one (coffee outside in my bathrobe) but it never happened.
Our new neighbours have a dog and no doubt would like some privacy. I understand. So it went up a few weeks back.
My husband says it’s nice, really. I look out and am surprised every time.
Hey. There’s a fence.
I know a woman who makes pillows of cat nip. Every now and then, she gives me two sachets for my cat.
“You have to scrunch them up first,” she advises me each time.
I lived in Toronto and never knew the people who lived around me. The cranky neighbour who said I listened to my music too loud. The people who never let their dog inside.
This woman spotted me at Tim Horton’s recently and came over to place a baggie of new cat treats in my hand. She said:
“You have to scrunch them up first.”
I thought, I am home.
This is my crane.
On Friday, a neighbour of mine died. It was a shock. Our families had lived beside each other for eight years. Our children have grown up together.
My crane is on the swingset in our backyard. I always said ours was the poor people’s swingset next to hers, which is in the background. Hers was the swingset of the jet setters.
I was not close friends with her but this weekend has been a quiet one with moments of staring off and then realizing, I am staring off.
This life is short and sweet. This crane is for my neighbour.Print