Neighboring


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It's a beautiful day in this neighborhood, A beautiful day for a neighbor. Would you be mine? Could you be mine? Won't you be my neighbor?

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​~Fred Rogers

Dear Reader

Before summer fades far from the memory, I have one final tale that has been fermenting off to the side. It was too poignant for words as it unfolded. Now, with a bit of air to breathe and space to take shape, it is ready to share.

The doorbell rang at exactly 2 pm on a Tuesday in mid-July. I know it was 2 because it was later than I had hoped to finally lie down for a quiet hour with my book after a full morning of garden chores and preparing lunch. I scrambled down the stairs and flung open the door to what I had expected to be a delivery. It was not. There, huddled together and grinning ear to ear, were our neighbors Jim and Deb. Well, this was unexpected. I braced myself for unwelcome news, as it’s been an immensely difficult stretch for them, to say the least. Instead, Jim breaks the silent pause with an announcement,

We’re here to offer our help!

I know my skeptical expression can’t be hidden, but I smile and make an attempt for the sake of politeness.

We’ve got six weeks until Deb's back surgery, and we know you’ve got big events coming up next month. We'd like to help you get your place ready.

He isn’t wrong, but what in the world is he thinking? Neither one of them is in the best of shape.

What did you have in mind?

I stammered while holding off the tears that suddenly appeared, pushing against the back of my eyes. Now, I know you have your way of doing things, he tells me. That would be the understatement of the year. And we don’t know much about helping with your gardens, but we do know how to clean up overgrowth and rebuild a rock wall.

The three of us simultaneously turn in the direction of the well-hidden wall that runs the length of our property. From this view, with some imagination, you could pick out the idea of a stone wall, but mostly it looked like a lush tangle of shrubs and vines left to their own accord.

While my mind screamed, what are you thinking of? With you just finishing chemo and Deb barely able to walk, but for a blessed moment I held back my lament. I caught a hint of something behind his bright smile that told me this wasn’t a whim but perhaps a plea. Without either of us saying another word, I came to understand that this was bigger than the rock wall and something the two of them needed, perhaps a focus outside of their personal struggles.

When were you thinking you’d like to begin?

I was already assuming it would be next week, when there was a promise of cooler temps. wellthought out well-thought-out

Is now a problem?

Feeling the need to ride my emotional wave, which was already all over the place, I suggested we meet up late afternoon when the temperature drops a few degrees, and we settled on a time.

In hindsight, I should not have been shocked, but that afternoon I was taken aback to see the two of them already in place, dressed for the task, with a cart of tools and a rubbish bin on wheels. Mustering up as much cheerfulness as I could in the heat and skepticism of what might lie ahead, I asked Jim to share his plan, because he clearly had one.

We figured we would get started each day after pickleball. Of course we might miss some time now and then for doctor appointments. And we will just need to see how we both hold up.

No turning back now, I thought, and it would not be the last time I wondered if we should have created an exit strategy.

Before I go any further, I want to add a little context. Jim is in his 80s and, in the spring of 2025, received a diagnosis of pancreatic cancer and made no secret of his plan to beat the statistics. Since that time, he has undergone two full chemotherapy rounds, surgery, and radiation. His lovely wife, Deb, is nearing the late stages of Alzheimer's and struggles with sciatica pain and degeneration of her spine. And yet these two keep a full life and maintain a golf course-standard landscape year-round.

Oh dear.

We quickly recognized the gap in our yard maintenance standards within weeks of moving in. When the doorbell rang, Jim appeared and announced the scheduled arrival of the city leaf pickup trucks. If

we could just gather our carpet of leaves and get them to the curb, they would be disposed of for us. What a service! Unless, of course, you are us and you love leaf litter, which we do. He wasn’t quite sure I was serious or joking when I thanked him and said we’d be keeping our leaves this year, but he nev

Over the next years, they have watched from their well-appointed front terrace as we constructed various sets of compost bins, a high tunnel, a chicken house, and, of course, the replacement, square foot at a time, of our .33 acre of lawn with garden beds. At the same time, we observed Jim’s perfectionism play out in the care of his lawn and entire landscape. All the while we remained friendly, on a you-do-you basis. That is, until Jim’s diagnosis and Deb's rapid decline. At some point a line was crossed, and we went from being neighbors to neighboring, doing what must be done in the moment and leaning in as much as they allowed.

The rock wall offer was made in the painful period following the unexpected loss of their son, days after Jim’s final chemo treatment, and weeks before Deb would have surgery to insert a steel rod into her spine. Knowing Jim, I expected this to be a precision project, but I was not prepared for the devotion he would bring. Some mornings he was out at the break of dawn, and they often were taking a breather when we sat down for our evening meal.

I need to admit that accepting the offer of their labor with grace, given all I knew, was challenging. That remained true until I realized the true gift. I began to see their work differently around the third week in, when I caught them giggling over the imaginary creatures they saw in the rock arrangements.

This wasn't work; it was pleasure, and that changed everything. From that moment forward, I made a point of checking in daily, hearing about their favorite newly discovered rock, and what unusual treasure they had uncovered from a wall that hadn't been disturbed in a hundred years. By then, I was also sharing half of whatever I baked that day and keeping Jim stocked with tomatoes for his evening sandwich.

Up until now, this story has been about the neighboring occurring between our two homes, but Jim's rock wall project very soon had the attention of our entire neighborhood. The walkers, the runners, the cyclists, the moms with strollers, the commuters, and the laborers who passed our corner all became deeply invested in Jim's work and, at times, one another. Jim learned all of their names and a tidbit about each one. Some afternoons he drew in a whole crowd; others, traffic could barely get by. Everyone wanted to know what he was doing- rebuilding the wall- and why- because we are neighbors.
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It's been a few weeks since Jim and Deb finished the rock wall and the two stone staircases they added on a whim, and folks still slow down to have a look. With Deb's input and intern Lucie's help, we seeded the entire stretch with a shady meadow mix that's already made a soft carpet of green.
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It was a full and at times challenging summer, but this is the true story of the season and one I will keep near and dear for years to come.
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​Energies I will be noting in the week ahead:

On Saturday, 26 September, we will experience a Full Moon in Aries, fiery, feisty, and full of energy, with an opportunity to step into your power and use it well. It may feel like a lot, so you might join me in planning for a quiet day to absorb all it has to offer.

Until next week,


Last call for garlic! Are you ready to commit?

Follow the Sun September 21-October 2

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Field Notes from Lauren

I began expressing my big Cancer emotions through writing at a very young age. For me, the unique act of writing is what allows me to process and evolve fully . Today, my weekly missives follow themes that weave between the literal fields of my work in the Gemmo Forest, our family homestead garden, and the energy field we all experience. My life now follows the rhythm of the land. From spring through fall, I can be found outdoors, hands in the dirt, working alongside her husband, Joachim, to tend our 7,500-square-foot family garden or with local volunteers caring for Gemmo Forest. When the cold sets in and the fields rest, I return indoors, where I rekindle my love of writing by the wood stove, always with my faithful calico, Ruby, curled close by.

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