It was dark and rainy out so this time I gave her a call first rather than just knocking on her door.
“I’m a bad neighbor.”
She did a doubletake–What?
I explained that I’d torn the plastic cover off the magazine that came in the mail, thinking, oh, they sent me a free copy to try to get me to subscribe (given that they’d pitched me an offer just a day or two before in the mail) and so I’d started reading it.
Then I went, wait a minute…and looked at that plastic wrap again, looking for the label. “It was your magazine,” I told her– “and then I read it anyway. It was Consumer Reports. I’m a bad neighbor.”
She laughed and told me I could read it any time and I said no, it’s yours.
She wanted to walk over so I wouldn’t have to get my hearing aids out in the rain and I wanted to show her the new apple tree and so I stepped outside anyway with a wool hat on and we met up in the middle. I handed her her mail and as we chatted we walked around to that tree (well, stick) right next to our property line.
Tart. She loves tart apples. This one will be so perfect.
I explained that given how invisible the little thing is in the dark, I didn’t want people walking into it, so that’s why I’d skewered this (now bedraggled, wet, droopy little) piece of white paper across the top.
“Is THAT what that is? I’d been wondering!”
We rolled our eyes at the fact that our mailman misdelivers between our two households multiple times a week–it’s been a regular, ongoing thing, but when she growled a bit at his incompetence I laughed and told her, I want to thank him, because we get to spend all these times talking that we would miss otherwise. (Adding quickly), But I wouldn’t want to give him any ideas!
Given that our by-mail meds went to her last week, it was a very good thing for us that she hadn’t flown out of town.
Yeah…
I wish the guy would do his job, I mean, how hard is it? And I’m glad he doesn’t. Just don’t tell him that.