We lived in several communities in the first few years of our marriage; most of them quite small. When you move to a small town, especially a small town where you have no family connections, you feel a bit like a fish in a bowl. You feel like everyone is watching you - because they are -curious about who you are and why you're entering THEIR community.
Not Elsie or Jock, the owners of the lot across the street: Elsie was the first person to come over.they welcomed us; they made us feel welcome and treated us like family. The feeling was mutual. To us - a young couple with three small children - they were surrogates for our parents who were far away.
Our children grew up in this house in Eyebrow and in many ways so did my wife and I. Many times, over those years we had the pleasure of looking across the street and admiring the beauty across from us. Almost as often we wondered what they thought of the view from their front window - and were quite sure that, though they never once complained - we had the best of it.
Our house had sat vacant and untended for several years before we purchased it. Both the house and the yard needed work. We did what we could, but with three small children, a dog and full time jobs, we couldn't quite keep the dandelions and dog created bare patches of our lawn under control.
The beautiful yard across the street still looks better than ours, but this year, for the first time that I can remember, the bare patches are filled and green; and the dandelion's are gone. Sadly, so are Jock and Elsie. Jock passed away several years ago and Elsie lost her battle with Cancer in March this year. I'd like to think that they're still looking at the view from their window - and maybe even that they've used some influence to help with the dandelions.
Jock and Elsie, you are missed!
