The Letter I Would Have Written to my Neighbour Three Weeks Ago…
What a fabulous party last night! Not sure what happened to our invitation. Stolen by your Rufus, perhaps, and added to his collection of chewed-up-neighbour-things, such as our fence posts? Such a talent, your doggie, especially when it comes to barking. Never mind. Even at 2am, from the comfort of our bedroom, we felt fully included in your bash.
Have you ever considered a singing career? I’m more than happy to vouch for the power and resonance of your voice, especially on those high notes. Wow. And your sound system – positively heart stopping. I’d heard of doof-doof music before but never been quite sure what it was. At 3am, you answered my query. Thank you! Certainly sets the pulse racing, right?
One thing we missed out on – the food. But it must have been colourful, given the electrifying shades of puke splattered across the street this morning. Certainly a creative addition to the kids’ chalk drawings. At least you and your mates avoided the bins. Nice work. And, from the looks of what’s inside mine, you’re single handedly propping up the craft-beer industry. Right on!
Neighbour, I’ll admit, narky, anonymous missives go against my personal neighbour-code, so I’m not going to send this letter. Also, I know something you don’t, yet. Two weeks from today, parties like yours will no longer be legal (I think your noise level was a bit illegal, but anyway..) and the world will have shifted into a dark, difficult period.
Let’s not worry about that for the moment. The good news is, you’re young. You’re pretty new here. You’re renting, so maybe you won’t be here for long, but you won’t want to leave because you’ve hit the jackpot of great communities. On Sunday arvos, we often gather in the back lane for drinks (obscure beer-types welcome) and our kids career up and down on scooters and bikes. When this virus business is over, we’ll be out there again, and you’re welcome to join in. In the meantime, why don’t you join our WhatsApp group? If you run out of toilet paper or pasta, give us a yell. We’re happy to share what we have.
Soon, we’re really going to need each other and you’re going to need some reading material. Can I suggest my new book, The End of Cuthbert Close? It’s a story of food, friendship and a suburban idyll that starts to fracture when the new neighbours move in. Don’t worry, friend, it’s not about you!
The new neighbour is the uber-glamorous, Charlie Devine, wife of the mega-famous lifestyle guru, The Primal Guy. When she interrupts the annual Cuthbert Close street party with her oversize removal truck and naughty cat, Banjo, the guacamole really hits the fan. Trust me, it’s a fun read. Buy it and send it to your Mum for Mother’s Day next month. She’d rather a hug, I bet, but this book will make her smile and we all need those right now.
If you do that, I’m happy to forgive and forget about last night. In the context of what’s happening right now, I’m glad you partied like there’s no tomorrow because, for a while, all of our tomorrows will be nothing like they were today.
But please – next time you crank up the tunes and wheel out the beers, whenever that may be, just invite us.