When D and I were at the house last week, we met a neighbor. I was sitting in the window seat, actually, posing for that photo, when I saw a man leaning against the front door.

Huh?

He lives in the house behind mine, he said, and wondered whether he might have some of the apples and rhubarb that grow in my yard. (By all means! Get it before the deer do, please. And I have rhubarb? Who knew?)

We chatted, as people do on warm country days. Turns out his wife was the one who notified my across-the-street neighbors about the broken water pipe. Those folks told my lawn care guy. The lawn guy called the handyman; the handyman called me.