I love stories like that.
They just seem far and few between these days.
Overall, we have pretty good neighbors. None of them own any tools, it seems, and we do, so our house is known as “Ron’s Rent-All.”
Its nice to help out, but when we need a tool, none of these schlubs have what we need and so we end up buying it.
At least my closet neighbor doesn’t mind if my dog craps on their lawn. They have four. So, at least I got that going for me. Which is nice.
I miss good neighbors, too. I have a theory that it all boils down to baked goods. You see, my parents have always had the best neighbors, the kind who take better care of you and yours than you do yourself. My mom is an excellent cook and even better baker. Wherever they’ve lived, Mom would hand out baked goods at the earliest opportunity. Compliments lead to conversation, conversation to friendship, and then voila! Good neighbors all over the place.
Baked goods; the grit in the pearl of good neighbors.