There are hazards to being at home during the day. Pumpkin and I are heading to Houston tomorrow. Although we have not had much rain in the past few weeks, I needed to cut the grass. I water the front yard, so it continues to grow. Doing this makes no sense, as it only adds to my work load, but I do it anyway. When I had the irrigation system installed I assumed it was required for suburban living. They don't issue instructions when you move to the suburbs like they do when you move to the city.
Today's story is about meeting the neighbors.
I was in the middle of the job of cutting the back yard's grass when I looked up and saw a man wearing a floppy hat, holding a walking stick in his right hand and in his left hand was a small child. I turned off the lawn mower and said "That child isn't mine".
The gentleman asked if I could help. He and his grandson had been taking a walk in the woods and now did not know where they were, or how to return home. I asked where he lived, and he said "I don't know. Let me think.".
Once in awhile I hear on the scanner a call for the police to look for a senior citizen who has wandered away from home. Today he found me.
After a few seconds he remembered the name of the street on which he lives. I'm embarrassed to say that I needed to call the fire department's dispatcher to ask where the street was located. After all, this is both my fire and ambulance district. You would think I should know this. To tell you the truth, when I'm responding to an emergency on a fire truck or an ambulance I use a device called a map. John the dispatcher gave me good directions to the gentleman's home.
For the sake of this story, the gentleman's name is John, and the little boy's name is Timmy. John is 80 and is retired from Kodak. Timmy is three, and likes to take walks with Pa Pa. Timmy spends the day with Pa Pa and his grandmother while his mother works. When I first saw Timmy I thought he was a girl. He has a style of haircut that is best described as "mop head". He was also wearing a hoodie. I learned all this as I walked with them back to their house. I have owned a house in this neighborhood since July of 2006. I didn't even know that we had woods, let alone that you could get lost in them. I have since looked at a satellite image of the area, and the woods are actually large enough that I'm not planning on going into them without a compass, flashlight, sleeping bag, snack and tent.
John, Timmy and I walked back to their house. About two blocks before arriving one of John's neighbors pulled up in her car and got out. She had been sent by John's wife to look for the wanderers. My job was done. Now I needed to walk back home.
I had big plans for my day, and these plans did not include a cardio walk through the Town of Chili. They also didn't include time for me to report on my activities on this blog, so it seems my time is flexible.
My life in the suburbs has been largely uneventful. The neighbors next door just removed their above ground pool so that they can build an in ground pool. That was exciting. They gave me three hostas that they had to dig up. I planted them today. That was fun. When I'm cutting the grass someone I know might stop to say hello. Last week, when I was cutting the grass I got to meet the new dog that has moved in two houses down. That was nice. It's rare that I actually get to help someone. I'm glad that, in the suburbs, if you are 80 and in the the early stages of Alzheimer's (his words, not mine), you can approach a fat, bald, white guy in shorts and a sweaty t-shirt to ask for help getting home. I would like to think you could also do that in the Big City. Chances are, given the opportunity, most people would walk John and Timmy home.
I'm certain you would.
