How dirt helped us meet our neighbors

One of the first things that we did when we moved into our house 2 1/2 years ago was kill all the grass in our yard and turn the space into a big garden.  It obviously drew the attention of our neighbors as we had cardboard flattened out filling the space and our chicken coop in the front of the house to take advantage of their fertilizing waste.   At that time, we were surely seen as very odd to our neighbors.  Our direct neighbors politely and directly asked, "Aren't chickens for the country?" conveying their discomfort with our feathered friends.  We moved ahead with our plan and before we knew it had zucchini to hand out to passersby and cherry tomatoes coming out our ears.  

During the countless evenings we spent out in the garden- planting, watering, weeding, and harvesting, we would come to meet many of our neighbors who would walk by.  Just one of the perks of not having cable!  There are the moms who bring their kids over to pick tomatoes and strawberries, the grandmas who don't speak English, but point to different plants, trying to get us to understand the name of the plan in their native tongue, the fellow gardeners who swap tips and seeds with us.  The garden quickly became a gathering place.  In the heat of the summer, when our windows are left open, we can often hear Chinese speaking women gathering outside the fence pointing and talking about the different things growing 

     To enrich our garden, we order a big load of compost and share it with our neighbors. 

 We stole the idea from Luke's parents, who have been doing it for years.  People can either take it by the bucketful or wheelbarrow and pay for what they use.  It's one of my favorite weeks of the year and it happened last week, during the stretch of 80 degree weather we had in April in Portland.  For a week straight, neighbors are knocking on our door and windows.  When I check the mailbox for letters, cash falls out.  

There were several times when people were waiting to borrow the wheelbarrow, so they were "forced" to talk to one another as they waited.  I got to re-acquaint myself with my neighbors from China, Vietnam, El Salvador, Mexico, Syria, Kenya, Somalia, Tanzania, and so many other places I lost track.  Perhaps one of my favorite memories was a Saturday morning, when there was a knock on our bedroom window at 7:15am.  I was awake, and Luke was in our room with Dahlia.  I went out and played charades with the woman who lives a few houses down, insinuating that she should come back in ten minutes.  I left and returned to our house at 10:00am, to find her cooing songs to Dahlia, meanwhile, Luke was wheeling ten loads of compost to her house.  We hadn't intended on becoming a delivery service, but it worked.  Compost season is a reminder of spring that is coming and it is when folks start coming out of their winter hibernation.  We are grateful for the diversity in our neighborhood and the chances that we get to meet and befriend those who live around us.