Replacement tires, hay off loaded, farm sitters, and peach preserves, what do these items have in common? Goodwill. Or payback, if you must, but only with a most positive connotation.
Words cannot express the standard of kindness and generosity that pass for the norm in these parts. Did I have outstanding friends and neighbors in New England? Absolutely, but none I could ask to farm-sit an operation this size. Or, I might have asked, but to do so would have been an imposition. Not so here.
Beginning at the end, the peach preserves were a gift from Barbara—the delightful neighbor with whom I car-pooled to and from many Master Gardener meetings. In her case the goodwill was thinly disguised as me helping her. The Saturday morning we attended a canning demonstration and learned about what to do with preserves that do not seal properly (either reprocess them or consume as if fresh), Barbara mentioned that she’d experienced this problem with a batch of peach jam recently. The stage set, she appeared the next week with a jar of peach preserves and the request that we help her family by consuming them. Doing so posed no hardship here: the jam was delicious!
Our neighbor Theresa, an outstanding cook herself, has fallen into a routine with us whereby we gather for supper on a week night periodically. We have great fun relaxing together over a meal, and introducing one another to new tastes and recipes. But her value as a volunteer farm-sitter is priceless. If we need to be away for an evening or a weekend, she and her husband will dispense hay, water, and grain; put up or let out animals; even manage health care when needed. (That week after Caitlyn had twins but only accepted one, they were up for the task of wrestling goat mothers to enable the shunned runt opportunities to nurse.) Finally, she has been extraordinarily understanding as we continue the battle with canine containment. Should an outsize shaggy intruder appear on her porch at the cat dishes, she is quick to alert me and is always nice when I come to fetch Heidi or Luther home. (The dogs’ penchant for wandering has become a problem. They have already worn out their welcome with neighbors a bit farther down the road.)
When home, the dogs both announce visitors and ward off those they deem potential threats. One way I know that Jeff—our builder, farm consultant, and hay provider—is okay is that the dogs have accepted him without reservation. Jeff is a source of pleasant surprises, too. While I was out skirting alpaca fleeces on Saturday, he came by and finished unloading the trailer-full of hay. Furthermore, on Monday he brought us two tires to use as replacements on the horse and flatbed trailers. I cannot say that we do much for him, but he certainly treats as if we do.
All of our neighbors and friends treat us amazingly well, providing “payback” for the least amount of goodness extended their way. Thus, what goes around comes around. I like that.
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