It is morning again, already!  The sun is shining right in my eyes.  I am tired.  My fingers are stiff, the knuckles swollen and sore. Too much work in the garden yesterday.

I have lost my words for a few days.  Once lost, it takes some work to coax them back.  So I am limbering up these tired old fingers.  I’m pecking away on the keyboard, one word at a time, one slow thought at a time.

Our raised beds are all built, lined and filled with topsoil – all four of them.  Two of them are planted.  Two more to go.  They are looking quite handsome but I am sure some irate neighbour will find some fault even though it is on our property.  Such is my neighbourhood.  I am so envious of hearing others talk about their neighbours and a sense of community.

Not that my neighbours are such terrible people.  But I have not felt a sense of community amid them for a long time.  I hear their sad stories about their troubled teens, ugly husbands, messy divorces.  I tolerate their shouting matches and loud music.  They complain about my dog. Sometimes they make more noise than Sheba.

But I feel a change in the air.  The ‘hood is changing.  Or maybe it is I who is changing.