Neighbors

Every so often the neighbor to my north comes home on a Saturday from her family farm with a trunk full of produce. Admittedly this is one of the few positive things about summer. When my timing is just right, and she thrusts a giant zucchini or 17 ripe tomatoes or a bushel of carrots at me, I get just a little bit giddy envisioning time in my kitchen. With my new blender, I can make salsa, and while most of the zucchini will end up in bread, there’s still plenty to make a delicious veggie stir fry with the 5 funky shaped carrots. My neighbor to the north is truly a lovely human being who delights me with her gifts.

Every so often the neighbor to my south has a really bad cancer day. I felt gut-punched this weekend when I could see her through the opaque glass of her bathroom, her head clearly leaned back and resting on the window. That in itself wasn’t the hard part; it was the fact that when I happened to glance over half an hour later, she was still there. And another hour after that as well. Her battle has been long fought, and she has kept high spirits for as long as she can, but some days are exhausting.

Every so often the northern zucchini bread needs to go to one’s southern neighbors.