And like a good neighbor....

...State Farm is there. Really? What is a good neighbor? Someone who is always there when you need them and even when you don't like the insurance company advertises? That seems terribly one-sided. These past six months have been the first period of my life in which I have had no neighbors. The farm is not particularly lonely since the owner is in and out all the time, but it sure is quiet. While I have grown up, moved away and come back to stay, my childhood neighbors have all moved away permanently. I have connected with the Otwell and Standley girls on FaceBook and my dad married the mother of the three Ward girls so they are family now. My next set of neighbors consisted of dorm mates at Converse College, many of whom have connected with me on FaceBook. Since college, I have lived in South Carolina, Tennessee and Ohio before coming back to Florida to stay. In South Carolina I was a nanny for a nice family in an "uppity" neighborhood before moving downtown to live my hippie days. Those townie neighbors were quite tolerant of the raucous parties my roomies and I had and were even nice enough to let me babysit when I was really broke. And they gave me a great tuna casserole recipe! After a couple of years there I met my daughter's father and we moved to Tennessee where my life fell apart. Those days were filled with isolation and sadness. I saw the neighbors through my window but never even knew their names. After my daughter was born we moved to Ohio. The guy who lived next door was quite nice and often asked if I was alright but never interfered. I have only moved twice since coming home 15 years ago. I lived on the busiest street in town for 9 years and had permanent neighbors to my left and a steady stream of short-term renters to my right. The retirees on the left side tolerated my foster dogs and their nervous barking as well as my daughter and our friends, but they never were particularly friendly. Despite my daily hellos the woman may have spoken to me an average of once per year. The man however was somewhat chatty, at least until the old lady grunted or glared and made him go inside. The only right side neighbor I got to know was a wonderfully effeminate young black man who loved to fix a cocktail and chat in the driveway. He had some interesting visitors. When the kids and I moved to the farm a couple of years ago, we were without neignbors for a month or so until a young couple and their dogs moved into the small house across the way. That was overall a very good neighbor experience. They let Sam come play in their yard with their dogs and flock of guineas and we pet sat for them. They had dinner here sometimes and we'd enjoy a bonfire over there sometimes. I borrowed coffee and they borrowed butter. When Sam and I were away, Sara would have one of the neighbor dogs come stay with her. It was so comfortable and easy...just like in Mayberry, USA. But they moved away for work and family. So now I am in neighbor limbo, waiting to see who may be next to traipse through my life. It is interesting to look back over 40 years and remember the people and places dotted throughout. I am sure many of them have no recollection of me, but for some reason they stand out in my memories. I get attached to places and people quite easily but have gotten used to moving on.