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.