Curious George and the Neighbors

Something happened yesterday afternoon when I came home from work at the museum.  The house to the right of me is a tiny little red brick number with a well kept lawn but quite dilapidated flower beds.  The man who lives there is older and hasn't smiled in a while.  I know this because all of his wrinkles stretch down instead of up.  When I pulled up yesterday, he was wrestling with some large black garbage bags full of grass clippings and twigs, all the while swearing like a sailor at the guys who had cut his grass but not put the bags on the curb.  I almost walked inside, but instead I marched myself over to his yard and put on my "let's be friends" smile and said, hi, my name is Georgie, can I help you with these?  Lo and behold, he said his name was George and that'd be helpful if I could just heave them to the curb. 

When we'd lugged the last one, he mumbled a thanks and I said no problem, and I returned to my little house.  I made a pot of coffee for myself and mused.  First I mused about art, which is sort of a default setting with me.  Then, I mused about community planners.  My psychology professor at school was fascinated by social psychology, particularly in the area of how communities form.  In neighborhoods with window boxes, are there a higher percentage of book club members?  Before long, I was waxing idealistic and started daydreaming about my neighborhood.  We could have block parties and dinner parties we could look after each other and people wouldn't feel alone and, and, and. 

I don't really know anything about community planning, but I bake a mean cinnamon pecan cookie.  So. Here's the plan.  I have three immediate neighbors.  George to the right, young couple with toddler and baby to the left, and the Williams across the street.  I only know they're the Williams because their mailbox says so.  Phase 1 of Operation Make Friends in the Neighborhood to Decrease Crime and Isolation, or Operation Neighborhood is delivering cookies to each of these houses, and hoping no one has nut allergies.  Probably, I think maybe I'll wear my orange paisley apron for this project.  It's a good fall baking apron.

Updates to follow,

Georgia