Welcome to the Neighborhood
Hi. I’m new here. We may have met somewhere before and I hope we meet again in this space, this writing and reading community. I will share my musings, test-publish pieces of prose (non-fiction), play with poetry, and share insights. Pardon the unpacked boxes, stacks of papers, and dishes in the kitchen sink. I’m still getting settled, having just moved here from blogspot and recently retired from a career of bi-weekly paychecks. My new home office is taking shape.
Last night, my husband and I were watching t.v. in the darkened living room when there was a loud, insistent knock on the front door. New to this house in a quiet Albuquerque, New Mexico, neighborhood, we didn’t know anyone who would stop by this late. But it sounded important at 37°F.
My husband, aka The Scientist, looked out the peep-hole but couldn’t see anyone, even after he turned on the outside lights. He opened the door and called “Hello?” A woman who was just getting into her car, which was parked on our driveway, returned up the now-lighted sidewalk, introduced herself as a neighbor, and told us our garage door was open.
“I was driving by,” she said, “and worried you might not know. It’s a safe neighborhood, but open garage doors are tempting, and yours has been left up more often than I’d like.” She lives around the corner from us, she explained, in the house with the abstract sandstone sculptures.
“Thank you!” we both said. We would have invited her in, but she was anxious to get home.
And now, for me, starting this Substack blog feels a little like that—launching into the dark, not knowing who might be out there, hoping I closed the garage door (I don’t want just anyone opening those boxes, yet), and still unsure of the neighbors. But I trust you’re looking out for me, so I’ll leave the porch light on just in case you stop by now, or later. And if it’s not too late, I’ll invite you in for some coffee, red or green chile enchiladas, and pecan pie. Welcome.