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Neighbors bring food with death and flowers with sickness and little things in between. Boo was our neighbor. He gave us two soap dolls, a broken watch and chain, a pair of good-luck pennies, and our lives. But neighbors give in return. We never put back into the tree what we took out of it: we had given him nothing, and it made me sad. ↗
And now a POEM... A clothesline was a news forecast, To neighbors passing by, There were no secrets you could keep, When clothes were hung to dry. It also was a friendly link, For neighbors always knew If company had stopped on by, To spend a night or two. For then you'd see the "fancy sheets", And towels upon the line; You'd see the "company table cloths", With intricate designs. The line announced a baby's birth, From folks who lived inside, As brand new infant clothes were hung, So carefully with pride! The ages of the children could, So readily be known By watching how the sizes changed, You'd know how much they'd grown! It also told when illness struck, As extra sheets were hung; Then nightclothes, and a bathrobe too, Haphazardly were strung. It also said, "On vacation now", When lines hung limp and bare. It told, "We're back!" when full lines sagged, With not an inch to spare! New folks in town were scorned upon, If wash was dingy and gray, As neighbors carefully raised their brows, And looked the other way. But clotheslines now are of the past, For dryers make work much less. Now what goes on inside a home, Is anybody's guess! I really miss that way of life, It was a friendly sign When neighbors knew each other best... By what hung on the line. ↗
Sam and Patrick looked at me. And I looked at them. And I think they knew. Not anything specific really. They just knew. And I think that's all you can ever ask from a friend. ↗
I was also sick of my neighbors, as most Parisians are. I now knew every second of the morning routine of the family upstairs. At 7:00 am alarm goes off, boom, Madame gets out of bed, puts on her deep-sea divers’ boots, and stomps across my ceiling to megaphone the kids awake. The kids drop bags of cannonballs onto the floor, then, apparently dragging several sledgehammers each, stampede into the kitchen. They grab their chunks of baguette and go and sit in front of the TV, which is always showing a cartoon about people who do nothing but scream at each other and explode. Every minute, one of the kids cartwheels (while bouncing cannonballs) back into the kitchen for seconds, then returns (bringing with it a family of excitable kangaroos) to the TV. Meanwhile the toilet is flushed, on average, fifty times per drop of urine expelled. Finally, there is a ten-minute period of intensive yelling, and at 8:15 on the dot they all howl and crash their way out of the apartment to school.” (p.137) ↗
#bed #cannonball #cartoon #cartwheel #ceiling
It was lonely for a day or so until one morning some man , more recently arrived than I, stopped me on the road. 'How do you get to West Egg village?' he asked helplessly. I told him. Ans as I walked on I was lonely no longer. I was a guide, a pathfinder, an original settler. He has casually conferred on me the freedom of the neighborhood. ↗
If you wish to befriend someone, look for a person who loves first God then themselves. If they love God, they will be able to love their neighbor, too. ↗
#friendship #god #love #neighbor #friendship
Let every man shovel out his own snow, and the whole city will be passable," said Gamache. Seeing Beauvoir's puzzled expression he added, "Emerson." "Lake and Palmer?" "Ralph and Waldo. ↗
#funny #misattributed #neighborliness #ralph-waldo-emerson #snow
We can't choose where we come from but we can choose where we go from there. ↗
#stephen-chbosky #the-perks-of-being-a-wallflower #inspirational
