By now, if you are a follower of Random Musings, you’re familiar with “The Neighbors.”
If you’re relatively new and haven’t perused the archives, I introduce you to our neighbors here, we further discuss them here, here, and here. The nasty note I left on their front door is here. The fire is mentioned here.
It’s funny, the situations that can turn things around and make everyone concerned realize that we really aren’t so different. Yes, the hubs and I may be old enough to be your parents. Yes, you may love a good late night party while we need to get some sleep, but the long and the short of it is that we are neighbors, and unless y’all move? It’s going to stay that way. (We’re not moving any time soon.)
Yesterday Baby Boy came by to get the remainder of his “stuff” on his trek to independent adulthood. After he’d gotten everything that his brother had boxed up while I was at work, we were standing on the porch talking about next week’s graduation. Things were going really well, considering we were both feeling more than a little awkward. Suddenly we heard the girls next door hollering at us: “Can you come help? The car fell on him!!!”
Baby Boy and I raced off the porch and across the yard, and sure enough, the jack that had previously been holding up the car had given out, and the brake rotor was resting on our neighbor’s bare foot.
The two girls, Baby Boy, and I tried to get enough weight under the car to either lift it high enough to get his foot out or at least relieve some of the pressure on his foot, neither of which actually happened, so I told Baby Boy to go get the Hubs, and I called Rescue.
We don’t live too far from the VFD for our community, but it seemed like it took F-O-R-E-V-E-R for the ambulance to arrive. In the meantime, the Hubs fired up his tractor (it’s not one of those little lawn mower tractors; it’s a Kubota with a back-hoe and front end loader) and drove it like his butt was on fire and used the front end loader to lift the car high enough for our guy to get his foot out.
I think I mentioned in a blog last winter that the hubs took said tractor and got the neighbor’s truck out of the muddy ditch in front of their house. After that, we got a wave here or there, but nothing much had changed. Their parties were still loud, but I wasn’t hearing them over the bedroom TV, so to each their own.
While the Hubs was out this afternoon putting weed killer down in the front yard, he saw our injured guy and they got to talking. He thanked the Hubs for being home and for getting the car off of him. One of the girls came out with a plate of chocolate chip cookies for us. I have lived here sixteen years and NEVER have we received a plate of cookies.
Just before coming in to write this blog, we walked next door to return the plate and thank them for cookies, and told them if they ever wanted to drop by for a few beers and a swim to just holler over the fence. I’m quite sure they did not know how to take this, but hey…the olive branch was extended.
I’m kind of hoping that this will bridge whatever chasm there is between the two yards. Honestly…if you aren’t burning my house down or standing under my bedroom window screaming at the top of your drunken lungs, we’ll get along fine. I don’t think that’s asking too much. We really AREN’T sticks in the mud.
That said, I decided against lifting weights last night, since after the initial adrenaline wore off? I felt every bit of trying to move that stupid car.
He’s going to be fine. Told the Hubs that the doctor told him if the car had been on his foot much longer he may very well have lost a toe, given where the rotor was actually resting.
We’re just glad he’s okay.