It was a busy night last night. Tim started talking to the new neighbor over the fence, and he was quite a genial guy, full of information about the history of our house, and the people who lived there before. By the time that I dragged those stone urns to the garden shed and returned, Tim was over in their yard calling me. They pulled the fence back and I stepped over.
The man worked for a time for the Historical Society, and his mother and wife and I talked in the rapidly fading evening light. They now run a small 'playhouse', where bands and small stage productions book performances, so that was interesting. They had a little fire going. Tim took him over to our house and showed him where there was a ready supply of small firewood they could help themselves to.
It was nice to chat in the cool evening, and we made plans to do it all again, as soon as we get moved in. When we told them we were hoping to be moved in by the end of October, they were pleased.
It will be nice having neighbors, neighborly neighbors, the sort of neighbors that become part of your life.
On an entirely different note, a woman who'd often come to sit with my mother walked up to Tim in the store yesterday and began to talk. Much to his shock, she wanted to know if the will had been read. She was curious. She knew there was an insurance policy, she began. Tim said, "I don't know anything about that," and told me about it later, a bit amazed. I was more than a bit amazed. I was gobsmacked.