Close friends own the large home next door, which they’re renting out while working for a bit on the west coast. In the meantime, hubby and I are the keymasters, showing the place to potential renters from time to time.
When seven adorable twentysomethings expressed interest, these two old farts were skeptical. We went over there, fully intending to put our crotchety feet down on any plans for a frat house.
Instead, those kids won us over in approximately 4.2 seconds with their earnest desire to live simply and help the community.
When one of The Tribe, as we now lovingly call them, peeked out the window and excitedly asked about our compost bin and rain barrel, I knew I was a goner.
They have since become the best of neighbors, even surprising us this week with an enormous bag of fresh field peas, much to Seamus’ delight.
Two nights of shelling have hardly made a dent — except in our fingernails — so I’ll go out on a limb and forecast this one bushel will get us through the winter.