For the first time in a very long time -- I have some! And I am so thankful. I'm not counting our "part-time" neighbors who I rarely get to see at the house in the U.S. I'm talking about my British neighbors.
Until now all our residences abroad have been in very tall buildings making it impossible to even see a neighbor. In Brazil, we lived on the 27rd floor of a skinny building that swayed when a storm blew through. In Singapore, we lived on the 23rd floor where I could see Malaysia in the distance, and in Zurich we lived on the highest floor possible - the 5th floor -- in a building meant to withstand German bombs. Our storage unit in the garage was a designated bomb shelter. So, neighbors were an impossibility, not to mention language and culture gaps.
But, here at The Spinney, in our little corner called Bishopton in Stratford-upon-Avon, we live in a real bonafide house. More likely its a "cottage" as the ceilings are only 7 1/2 feet tall. But we have a muddy garden (backyard) and a one-car garage and so it has been a real change for us.
Our next door neighbors, Steph and Nick, wheeled in our rubbish bin for us when we had to leave early for the airport just before Christmas. Their cute kids are constantly kicking their ball over the fence and ringing my door bell to ask "Please m'am, is it okay if I retrieve our ball from your garden? Sorry m'am." And across the street, Mike explained why my front garden bushes are looking poorly. He also coordinated the drain clean-out for our little enclave and can advise on any of the systems in the house, about which we know very little (we have a "boiler" for goodness sake!). Another neighbor lady, clearly just out of the shower, came to my rescue at the front gate when I did not know how to open it with the code.
And there's the nice gesture of Christmas cards. All the neighbors exchanged cards by shooting them through the mail slots and a few of them even signed their cards "with love" -- now that is a friendly neighbor, and we're not even British.
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