but great people make great neighbors.
This post isn't about the house. It's about something much more important; the people who live around me. Here's the most recent example of the good side of human nature I've rediscovered since moving back out to the country.
Last night around 9:00, I went to put the 'Splorer under the carport. I leave it out when I'm working outside so I have more room to move around at the back door. Turned the ignition....click. clickclickclick....clickityclickity....clickclickclick. Nothing. Engine didn't even try to crank. Instrument panel black as coal. Aside from being furious that there was yet another problem with a vehicle that only has 54,000 miles, I wasn't happy that rain is expected later today and my windows were down and the sunroof was open a bit. I needed to get the car pushed under the carport to avoid damage from a thunderstorm or else one of the neighborhood stray cats (yet another pet {no pun intended} peeve: irresponsible pet owners) jumping inside and peeing/spraying. I could faintly hear the next-door neighbors outside enjoying the evening, since the earlier 96deg temperature had finally subsided. In my pajamas, I shuffled over to see if they would mind helping us push the vehicle. Instead, they came over with a charger of-a-thing and hooked it up and fiddled with all kinds of stuff to at least get the windows rolled up and the sunroof closed. This morning I went out to try starting it again. Still nothing, but the neighbors were out for their morning walk and came over again to see if we could get it going. Thank goodness for my alternative mode of transportation, the z750/blue blur. I popped out the starter relay switch from the 'Splorer, hopped on the bike and took off. If that, a new battery and maybe replacing a faulty ignition switch doesn't fix the problem, a good sledgehammer might.
Despite a highly frustrating situation and being a couple of minutes late for work, I'm really not as irritated as I would've been had I still lived in the big city. My neighbors not only took time out of their evening but also their morning routine to help me. As we were parting ways last night, Other Half thanked them for coming over and said to them, "Hey that's something you don't find in (local big city name)" to which the husband replied, "You got that right. That's exactly why we live out here."
'Nuff said.
I am the proud owner of a 1936 bungalow in the Central Piedmont area of North Carolina. It was purchased from the estate of the original owner, Laura Sims Brown. She died at age 96 on March 31, 2009, exactly two years prior to my closing on the property. Everyone who knew Ms. Laura says what a fine and remarkable lady she was, and how she loved her home and gardens. I hope to preserve and continue her efforts.
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