Part 2 of 4
Great Neighbors (Them, not us)
As I’ve mentioned in part one of our story, Neighbor Jay garners some serious respect on our block. He’s a great neighbor and enjoyable to talk to. He has a wonderful family, takes care of his home, and his lawn puts ours to shame. He likes sports and so do we. So, other than the lawn thing, we have a lot in common including boys around the same age.
Back then, I planted my first garden ever, in the backyard, against the six-foot cedar fence that separated our yards. The first year I planted it, the garden was AMAZING. Huge tomatoes. Your thinking of a big tomato right now, but these weren’t big tomatoes. I can grow big tomatoes almost any summer. (Perhaps an overstatement that my sister-in-law Karen, a true tomato growing connoisseur, would be very skeptical and probably laugh at). These were HUGE tomatoes. HUGE. I’ve never had them that large since that first year. I don’t know what I did or what kind they were, I just know they were ‘science fair’ type of huge. Some of them ‘freak show’ huge. And I love home-grown tomatoes. YumYUM. And yes, I made up the spelling of the word ‘YumYUM’ to best describe the depth of my feelings on this matter.
The plants that first year were almost 7-8’ tall. I’ve never had plants that tall since. And again, these monster plants produced monster tomatoes. And one of those huge tomatoes was growing on Neighbor Jay’s side of the fence. Because the plants were so tall there were a number of the fruits hanging over on neighbor Jay’s side.
One afternoon I’m out working in the garden. Neighbor Jay is out in his back yard working. Neither of these things is a surprise because he worked on his yard, a lot. I worked on my first garden, a lot. But I was picking tomatoes and a few radishes. I’m messing with the one plant that has the tomato on his side and I step up on the bottom stringer of the fence so I can look over at this massive thing. It’s fairly red but has a few more days of ripening before I pick it and eat it. So, I’m going to check it out one more time to make sure it’s not time to harvest. Again, I step up to look at it and there is Neighbor Jay. He too is investigating this behemoth of a tomato. He’s a tall man, so with me standing on the bottom stringer of the fence, I’m almost eye to eye with Neighbor Jay.
Very calmly (which is always his style) he looks right at me and says, ‘It’s mine.’ There’s no question what he is talking about. We both know.
‘My side. My tomato.’
How great is that? He’s been watching it slowly ripening for some time, ready to pick it when the time is right. I want to laugh, but he is pretty serious, and we are talking about home grown tomatoes so I can completely relate to how serious this conversation is. And what first time gardener doesn’t feel pretty proud to have someone hungering for one of your creations?
I look at Neighbor Jay and he looks at me and we are in complete agreement. And that’s pretty easy as he is as cool as they get. In fact, Neighbor Jays family …… well, we all what to be like them. On top of being the cool family on the block, they’re incredibly likeable. We won the lottery when we moved into the house on the 30th with awesome neighbors on every side.
But anyway, I nod at his statement of ‘My side. My tomato.’ He continues with, ‘It is on my side of the fence.’
I respond with another nod and ’of course.’
About 2 days later the behemoth is gone.
Neighbor Jay had a good tomato that summer day. I don’t know if he ate it like an apple, cut it into slices with a little salt and enjoyed it, or put it on a sandwich. But I know it was good and that he enjoyed it, and a lot more tomatoes that summer. Maybe he did what Chris and I do with the first tomatoes we pick every year. It might horrify some people, but somehow, we started this tradition years ago and while it does somewhat defile the tomato, we don’t care.
We cook up a package of bacon, slice the first harvest of home-grown tomatoes and have bacon and tomato sandwiches. Yes. It’s true. We take that healthy, first fruit of the harvest and slap some bacon on top of it. Nirvana.
I don’t begrudge good neighbors having as many tomatoes as they want. There was an abundance and even if there hadn’t been, we’d have shared. The neighbors around us made it easy to share. They cared. They were kind. They cared greatly for my boys and we cared for theirs. Now these were 5 and 6- and 7-year-olds. They were energetic and loud and boisterous and always moving. They were boys. And we loved every minute of those days.
I recall a conversation with Neighbor Jay shortly after Jordan was born. Early every week morning he went to work. By early, if I recall correctly, it was like 4 or 5 in the morning. Really early.
He mentioned one day that on his way to work, through our drawn blinds, he could tell that Jordan’s bedroom light was on. I believe it was around 4 am. And it had been as I was up with Jordan for an early morning changing, feeding, and cuddling. He said something along the lines ‘Baby Jordan was up early this morning. Saw his light was on.’
I found that so sweet. On his way to work, early in the morning and see’s that we are most likely up and handling the baby. He takes time to notice and think about us and what is going on in our lives.
These neighbors cared. About the big things and about the small things. And about an onery five-year-old boy laying on a horn in a Plymouth Horizon.
There was another time with Neighbor Jay that I think my type of humor might not have amused him. That’s okay. I run into that a lot. I’m always baffled and a little surprised that some people don’t think I’m funny.
At that time, in our yard, we had only one tree. It was in the backyard and way in the northeast corner. It mostly was on the Watson Park side. But the rest of the back yard and all of the front yard – no trees. Not a one. Neighbor Jay had two or three trees in his yard. Two in the front yard and maybe one in the backyard. I can’t remember for sure in the back, but I very much remember the two in the front.
I remember them because every fall they dropped their leaves. And every fall, all those leaves ended up trapped in our yard. We had a lot of concrete in the front. And to be honest, if it were up to Chris, we’d have more concrete. If he had his way, we would concrete the entire yard and paint it green. Chris has no interest in grass growing, grass mowing or a healthy, beautiful lawn of any kind. Not his thing. Anyway, our home on 30th had a single car garage attached to the house, and much to Chris’s delight, there was concrete poured beside that garage on the west side of the house (which was on Neighbor Jay’s side) and it extended from the street, over to the edge of Neighbor Jays yard and clear to the back wall of our home. So pretty much the entire west side of our home was concrete. No grass. And it went back a little further than the other homes because we had an addition to the back of the garage that was a shop. So, concrete. And it was a wonderful way to catch (and trap) all of the leaves from Neighbor Jays yard. Like a big U.
Remember, I have no trees. So, raking leaves should not occur. But it does. And there are a lot of them.
All those leaves from Neighbor Jay trap nicely between our house and the fence. Mounds of leaves sitting on the concrete between the house and fence, just waiting to be raked.
One year, we got them all cleaned up and into bags. I’m sure it’s way past fall and probably into winter before we got to it. We regularly are those people. Those neighbors who keep the yard, well, just okay. Not great. Not even good. Just okay. Okay enough that you don’t have to call the city on us. We are the distracted type of neighbors that will get to the leaves and other stuff at some point, just not immediately out of the gate when it all occurs. Like I said, distracted.
In fact, we’re so distracted that once, we wanted to go run some errands so Chris went out to start the car so it would warm up. For whatever reason we changed our minds and forgot about the car running. I kid you not. Neighbor Jay had to come over (about an hour later) and remind us that our car was still running in the driveway. So yeah. We’re those neighbors. That’s us.
Anyway, the leaves are bagged and ready to haul to the curb. However, I’m struck with inspiration and decide to return these leaves to Neighbor Jay. After all, they are his leaves.
It’s evening so I’m comfortable knocking on the door. Remember, during the day Brenda is sleeping so I don’t want to disturb her. I’m serious about that. She’s a great neighbor. Kind of quiet but I really like Brenda. I liked her from the moment I met her. She’s just one of those really likeable people. Quick smile. Actually, Jay, Brenda and Dubb are the type of folks your just immediately interested in knowing. Like that.
So back to the leaves. I decide to take two or three of the trash bags full of leaves over to Neighbor Jay. I haul them up the porch and beside his front door. Again, keep in mind, these are his leaves.
I knock on the door and Neighbor Jay answers. I gesture to the bags of leaves and the following conversation takes place:
Me: ‘Do you want these back?’
Neighbor Jay (looking baffled): ‘Huh?’
Me: ‘Your leaves, do you want them back?’
Long pause here. Now I’m not sure if I just annoyed him with interruption or if my humor just escaped him. He’s a funny guy so I’m not sure. But at this point I’ve said, ‘Your leaves, do you want them back?’
Neighbor Jay (literally scrunching up his face): ‘No man. I don’t want them.
And he shuts the door. In my face.
How impressive is that, because in my book it just doesn’t get any better (or funnier). I cackle like a mad woman as I drag the leaves down his porch steps and to the curb for haul away. Liking Neighbor Jay even more after the exchange.
The garden on 30th Street with Neighbor Jay’s house in the background
Coming Soon: Great Neighbors (Them, not us) Part 3
