“… you’re the Author?”

Our little street on Widdershins Island has about 20 houses on it. Some are summer cottages, (filling up fast now Summer has finally arrived) some are weekenders, and the remainder are occupied all year round.

As with all small communities, news travels faster than light, faster than a Higgs Boson!  And when new folks move in, details are shared amongst the residents in the time it takes for someone to walk from one front yard to the next. (or on the way down to the lake, which is shining so beautifully right now)

It takes a bit longer for these tidbits to be confirmed, by various means – devious and blatant – with the newbies themselves.

The other day our landlord finally replaced our rusty old stove. He trundled the new one in to the kitchen and proceeded to disconnect the old one.  (Widdercat and I waved farewell as it sailed off into the ‘large appliance recycling depot’ sunset)

But … Lo and behold, he discovered the new stove needed to be wired up differently. After much pondering the situation and a series of gentle and then not-so-subtle hints from me, (I was trying to write) he decided that an electrician was needed. (just as I’d mentioned earlier – much earlier – in the day)

Off up the road he trundled (trundling is his preferred form of locomotion – he’s four-score years and ten, if he’s a day) to his friend, and neighbourhood resident, the Electrician (retired who promptly arrived on our doorstep and threw himself behind the stove to wire doo-hickies and thingamajigs with an impressive assortment of electrician-y tools. (ya gotta have the right tool for the right job)

Prior to this evening, I’d only had a polite nod-and- “nice day” passing acquaintance with our Electrician neighbour.

Electrician neighbour finished the re-wiring efficiently, and as he walked out the door, (it’s now 10pm – I gave up writing anything meaningful hours ago) he turned to me and said, … “So, you’re the author then?”

I nodded and replied that I was indeed, ‘the author’.

He nodded carefully in return, as though I’d passed some sort of provisional ‘welcome to the neighbourhood’ test, and wandered off into the night.

Our nods-in-passing are friendlier now. Sometimes we exchange more than weather reports … on the days we’re inclined to chat.

This is how ‘community’ grows – one small interaction at a time.

and … call me the ‘hood author’ from now on!

*

“Love thy neighbor – and if he happens to be tall, debonair and devastating, it will be that much easier” Mae West, 1893 – 1980 Actress, playwright, screenwriter.

Mae, looking hot in a fancy chapeau

Here’s a few more of her wonderful one-liners

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18 comments on ““… you’re the Author?”

  1. Erin says:

    Hooray for getting to know your neighbors just a little more! (And extra cheers for having the stove wired up and working!)

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  2. timkeen40 says:

    I think the more people you know, the easier writing becomes. Keep getting to know those neighbors.

    Tim

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  3. jannatwrites says:

    Sometimes it takes a bit for people to warm up. I’m glad you’ve met another neighbor (and maybe even a future character?)

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  4. londonmabel says:

    Reminds me of an early episode of The Office when a new guy starts there but has no desire to stay long, and says: I don’t want to be “the” anything. I don’t want a title!!

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  5. Heh, cute anecdote. 🙂 That’s the difference to a city — here we’re all mostly just vaguely familiar faces to each other.

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  6. Small towns, small communities, can be funny places. If you’re born there, you’re automatically granted membership in The Club, but if you arrive anytime after birth – and especially in adulthood – you have to earn your way into The Club. Sometimes that just means hanging around long enough to be accepted as ‘not going’. Sometimes you have to extend a friendly hand more than once. Sometimes it means coming through in a pinch. And sometimes you never are let into The Club because you’re too____ for that community. When you finally move on, tired of feeling unwelcome, The Club members mutter, “See, told you she wouldn’t stay.”

    The city doesn’t really have The Club. It has the Clique, or the Office Water Cooler, or the Hang-Out.

    Perhaps the electrician has surreptitiously inspected you for suitability in The Club. The nods-in-passing might even signify imminent membership in The Club – if you hang around long enough.

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  7. Slowly, but surely.

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    • Widdershins says:

      That’s the way of it isn’t it? I never took to that aspect of Facebook and ten thousand instant ‘friends’. In fact I’ve never taken to Facebook period! I suppose I should, but every time I find myself saying I ‘should’ do something, I tend to dig my heels in. I probably should look at that one of these days. 😀

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      • I said the same thing, but then one day a few years ago I sighed and got on to do some publicity stuff for a high school reunion. I’ve been on Facebook ever since. I think of it as going to the office water cooler. Your friends list can be as few as two to as many as infinity. What’s great is you can create a page to rep your author self, if you want to keep fans separate from your personal age. Hmm, I’m not trying to sell you on Facebook. Just to let you know there are some plus’s. And, the moment it creeps you out, zip, you click and the account is gone. Okay, I admit, I’m one of those people that let my brain do it’s thinking while I play a game or five of solitaire there. 🙂

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  8. I can’t think of Arlen that small as a “hood” but Lake Author doesn’t have as cool a ring I guess 🙂

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