Saturday, 8 April 2017

Hey Neighbour

One night, after we'd first moved to our new house, we got home late from a dinner at my sister's place, and as we drove into the driveway we noticed something really odd: a lumpy bag that had been tossed by our front door.

Everyone we knew had been at my sister's house for dinner, and it wasn't possible we'd forgotten anything that would have been driven up and discarded by our front door before we could make it home.

We. Were. Suspicious.

" that?" I hissed at Dan.

"I have no freaking clue," he muttered. "It looks like a bag with a dead animal in it."

And it did. It was a freakishly shaped bag that in the glow of the moonlight (which was the only light we had to go on after we cut the engine) looked like the shape of a feline corpse.


"Are our neighbours freaks?!" I exclaimed.

We got out of the car, and I put Lil inside (Cosmo greeted us).

Up close the bag was a white plastic shopping bag, and it was dirt brown on the inside and still we couldn't make out its contents.

Dan grabbed his hockey stick and from a distance we started poking and slapping this strange bag. What the fuck was it?! Not a lot of resistance was met with, and we decided if it was a dead animal or something of that nature surely our hockey stick prodding would have made that immediately obvious.

Carefully we crept towards it.

"Don't touch it!" Dan chivalrously ordered. "You're pregnant!" He gave it one last vicious slam of the hockey stick before crouching down.

I stood back while he carefully opened the bag.


"What?! What?! Are we living in a neighbourhood of freaks?!"



"Dirty carrots."


Turns out our neighbour had a bountiful carrot harvest, and she dropped a whole bag at our front door with a lovely little handwritten note: "Welcome to the neighbourhood, here are some carrots fresh from my garden. Gale."

Oh my god.

WE were the freaks. It was US.

Imagine Gale looked out her window and saw Dan beating her carrots with his hockey stick? Imagine?! We were so used to neighbours leaving passive aggressive notes that, if acted out, were the equivalent of pulling on someone's hair while hissing in their ear, we had forgotten that some people are actually friendly.

What had become of us?! Switzerland hardened us! Our time in our rental had hardened us!

The next day we thanked Gale for the carrots, and she invited us in for a tea. We had a lovely chat where Dan and I were on our best behaviour, and a lovely and neighbourly relationship with Gale has developed. I'm proud of this relationship, because she's the only neighbour we have who is friendly and neighbourly. No one else around us gives a crap.

We still haven't told Gale that we beat her carrots to death with a hockey stick because we're still hoping that she thinks we're nice and normal, too. 

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