We spent most of today with some very good friends of ours, a family with whom we were neighbors for about eight years. We’ve since moved out of the neighborhood and they, to a nearby mountain town.

Their kids are nearly grown, yet it’s hard not to see the little kid in them all still.

And the memories are rich. I can’t help remembering how we shared everything from the typical neighbor stuff like sugar, eggs,  flour, fruits from our garden –  to breakfasts, dinners, furniture, cats from our litter, house-, hamster- and cat-sitting favors. That includes when they watched our passive-(weed)-smoking cat.

(Have I still not told you how we accidentally detoxed the “problem-child” cat? I’ll work on that.)

The best part, hands down: Reconnecting like no one had moved anywhere, ever.

Best kind of neighbors. Best kind of friends. I will always be so grateful to know them.