Dear Old Man who Lives across the Street from me...

I'm not that bad; I swear I'm not. We could be great friends if you'll just give me a chance.

There's really no reason you have to ignore me when you pass me on the street. I know that you know what my car looks like. You know I'm the one with the super cool minivan with the crazy kids running beside the car or hanging out the windows or sunroof. I mean, would a simple wave kill you? I'll even settle for a slight head nod. I'm not picky.

Come on...let's not pretend anymore.

And when we're both out walking or running, I do notice when you cross the street just so you don't have to acknowledge me. I can see you doing that, and I can't say it doesn't hurt a little.

What about when Ken invited you over when your electricity was off for 5 days longer than ours was. Don't lie and say you'll come over and hang with us and then not come. How do you think that makes us feel when you would rather sit alone in your frigid house with no power than to walk over here and get to know us a little better?

And, whatever you do, PLEASE don't come over here when I'm having my next garage sale and introduce yourself while looking at my friend as if she is the one that lives here instead of me. That was just plain embarrassing.

Just look at all the things we have in common:

• We both stay home during the day
• We both live on the same street
• We...ummm...

Okay, so maybe we don't have all that much in common, but I could make us a pot of coffee and you could come over and change all that. I've lived here 4 years now. I may not know your name, but here's what I do know:

• Your wife died around Thanksgiving 2007, but I didn't find out until well into 2008. I still feel kinda bad about that. I would have at least made a casserole or something.
• You never have any visitors, so you must be lonely. Let's just say...pot of coffee...you...me...Tuesday morning.
• You mow your yard every Monday morning in the spring and summer. I could bring you some lemonade if you want during the really hot months. That's just what friends do.

Didn't you ever watch Mr. Rogers Neighborhood? That will be us...minus the zippered sweater and the light tossing of the shoes. We don't even have to feed a fish or sing songs (unless you just want to.) We can sit at my kitchen table and make arts and crafts, and then the mailman will personally deliver our mail. Wouldn't that be dandy?

So, if you just give me a chance, we could make this a happier street. I think then you'll see that I'm a really great neighbor. Let's start with a wave or something, and we'll move on from there.

P.S. Thanks for driving slow when my kids are playing the street. That's always a good thing.

Sincerely,

Heather :)

Little House on the (McCreary) Prairie

Get it...Little House on the Prairie...McCreary...they...rhyme. Okay, it's not as clever sounding when I have to explain it. Wow, what a crazy week, but we survived...and we didn't freeze to death in the process.

I've lived in Arkansas my entire life, so I wasn't all that worried when the predicted ice storm hit our area. I knew that everyone would totally freak out, all the schools would be closed, and there would be TV reporters from every local station standing on the sides of major roads in their winter garb telling us, "if you don't have to get out on this stuff...don't. Just stay in and stay warm"

Well, that all happened. Everything was fitting perfectly into my previous icy memories until early Tuesday evening when my TIVO went dark. No power. No big deal. Our power went out like once a week when I was a kid. Besides, we now had "city water" as my parents always called it when I was a kid, so we could still do SOME of the basics. I was sitting pretty with my cheap candles in my saved coffee tins, so bring on the darkness...I DARE you.

It was like a big camp out. We made sandwiches, played board games by candlelight, and I sang songs...such a "Kum Ba Yah" moment, if you will. All the while, it was starting to get awfully cold in here.

The next morning, we arose from our multi-layered blanket cocoons, and tried to begin the day. Ken, of course, went to work and the kids were playing Legos in the living room. I even busted out some pancakes on my cast iron skillet IN my fireplace. Next, I decided to get out the washboard and do a load of laundry. I boiled some water in the fireplace and took my washtub outside and began to get to work.

Okay, that last part about the washboard is totally made-up, but overall I was very impressed with my survival skills. Until, of course, later that morning, when I somehow managed to lock us all outside in the 16 degree weather. I mean who would have thought that the garage door can look from the inside when you slam it shut? Good grief.

Afraid he would have to chip us out of the ice when he returned home, Ken insisted we go up to Tyson with him that afternoon to soak in their heat for as long as we could. Our 4-hour appearance there apparently struck some of Ken's co-workers with a tremendous amount of guilt, pity, or both, as we ended up eating supper with one and spending the night with another. I was very appreciative and WARM.

It was a crazy 50 hours, complete with my own emotional breakdowns and moments of helplessness. But just as I was contemplating holding up the closest Medipak pharmacy for some unprescribed anti-anxiety meds, our power came back on. This entire process forced two of my biggest issues to suddenly slam into each other...I hate not being in control AND I hate accepting help from other people. I had to face both of those at the same time, and I just about lost it.



It's over. We (okay Ken) started cleanup on Saturday morning as the ice was thawing. We've been fortunate enough to have help from a couple of neighbors and our friend, Kirk. I'm sure it will take a while, but we'll get there.