Neighbours - Friend or Foe?

Many years ago when I was a young single mother, I made a friend.  It was a typical way to make a new friend as  young mum, through your children who were already friends.  Ms S was a single girl as well with one little girl the same age as my Danika. Her daughter, let's call her Kasey, and Danika were about 7 or 8 at the time . I was about 30, newly separated, three children under 10, working part time and studying full time towards a diploma in Social Welfare. 

I tell you this just in the way of setting the scene - time poor, busy, financially iffy and a bit keen to make new friends while trying to make a new life for myself and the children. 

Anyway, with the small amount of settlement that I retrieved from the marriage, I had just enough to buy a small house. Dad pitched in a nice little amount to help with the deposit. So  I started looking about for a suitable home for us close to the kids school.  Ms S said, "Oh there is a cute little place in our street, just over the road from us."  Now at this stage we weren't really close friends just acquaintances, really. So I checked out the house. It was tidy, clean, big enough for us and within my budget - what's not to love ??  I made an offer and it was accepted. 

My family did the moving in for me one Friday (as I always worked Friday)  and we went about making it ours, comfortable and putting in  a garden.  It was a good little house.

I have moved quite a bit since I first got married - we had moved several times, for instance when we lived in Canberra for 6 and a half years, we moved four times. Soooooo.....get the picture.  To say that I was excited to have my own little house to make into a home was kind of an understatement.

The children and I were really happy there but as time went on, the friend, over the road, who lived on her own with her one child, became a bit of a burden. She started dropping over at inappropriate times on the weakest of excuses; asking for assistance at busy times; and inviting herself to my  place at the times when I really wanted her to not be there.  Then onto the scene came an old boyfriend of hers and she began to drag me into her drama.  One night at midnight, when my brother was staying, she rang saying that I had to go over there because of some reason or other as her ex was there making a nuisance of himself. It got to be too much.  She was just sucking dry my good nature and neighbourliness.  She knew how to pick her target though - a trainee welfare worker!! Who else would be so willing to help and try to sort out your emotional messes?? Perfect!

Isn't it great though that there is always a ying in your yang.  Enter Mr and Mrs Bugg, the neighbours on the south side. Mrs Bugg was the most gentle beautiful soul, all snowy curls and a sweet, sweet smile. Twin set and pearls.  Mr Bugg was a returned service man, tall, proud and with a lovely warm smile and a beautiful nature.  The Buggs were about the same age as my parents, who lived at least 30 minutes away in the country.  Excellent proxy grandies for my three.

Mrs Bugg kept to herself mostly with just a little wave and hello; Mr Bugg however, was one of Emily's best friends when she was a pre-schooler.  He had a fantastic garden with many garden rooms and great hiding spots.  He also had a lot of time for a cute little blondie, who had a penchant for mischief and charm. 

There was a jasmine vine in between our drives and paths, which handily had ideal little kid sized holes, that Emily could sneak through, nearly undetected, by both me and Mr Bugg. Emily loved Mr Bugg and I do believe that Mr Bugg was really quite fond of Emily.  She would often slip through the jasmine when she was in trouble at home and more than once I heard Mr Bugg say, "What have you done this time Emily?"  She would follow him around the garden, eat his strawberries, go and say hello to Mrs Bugg, most probably get a biscuit and eventually come back home, usually when the kids got home from school. 

I was truly blessed to have the Buggs as neighbours when both my children and I really needed an older friendly couple living next door.  When Mr Bugg got sick and went to heaven, I was really sad.  There was definately a gap in our lives.  He was such a dear gentleman; he was a friend to us all  but mostly it was Emily who had spent the most time with Mr Bugg.

We have been blessed here in Launceston too with a lovely neighbour in the form of Terry. But Terry deserves a post all of his own, so I will save that story.

Normally it is my habit to keep to myself in neighbourhoods, but every now and then you meet a Terry or a family like the Buggs, that make it so worthwhile to put your reticence in check.