Thankful for Thieves?

I have been struggling with how to write about the not-so-positive things that happen in the North End.  I don’t want to Pollyanna-ize things and yet I don’t want to join in sensationalizing the negative either.  One morning last week, we noticed our gate was wide open.  Nothing seemed to be missing, so we dismissed it. 

Later, we got the full story.  Here’s what happened and how it changed us.  I’m sure many in our neighbourhood can relate, and many more in other parts of the city.

Shortly after we went to bed one night (we must have gone right to sleep), one of our neighbours noticed someone in our shed and yelled, ”what are you doing?”  The would–be thief fled from his futile attempt.  Even though none of our possessions were taken, we lost our sense of safety and security in the process.

Knowing that someone had entered our space with evil intent and went so far as to unscrew our motion-sensitive lights, left us feeling violated and paranoid.  At bedtime, we started jumping at every sound and checking outside for signs of intruders.  After all, if someone had their eye on our yard before, what would stop them from a second attempt?

We’d become trusting again, leaving the kids’ bikes and toys outside, even after losing a scooter and a tricycle.  Were they really safe?  What if the thief came back and took something of real value or destroyed all the flowers I’ve so carefully planted?

The paranoia is starting to dissipate.  Nonetheless, my husband decided to install the deadbolt he bought for the shed a while ago.  And we’re counting our blessings.

We’re thankful our neighbours stepped outside at just the right time.  We’re thankful our neighbours recognized something wasn’t right and did something about it.  We’re thankful nothing was taken.  We’re thankful there was no vandalism.

I wonder if a thief ever realizes the full effect his actions have.  Stealing someone’s possessions, or even attempting to take them is not just about the loss of some material thing.  It can mean the agony of telling a child they can’t do their favourite thing anymore, wondering if you can really afford to replace it, and worrying it may happen again.  It can mean losing the joy of summer entertaining on the BBQ, as replacing it may be the last straw for a family already under financial strain.  Always it means a loss of trust and an increase in fear, at least for a time.  When that happens, more fences go up, gates get locked, garages are built, barking dogs appear, and communities become more closed.  All because someone decided some else’s property would be fun to take.

“Thou shalt not steal” was written for the good of community, I’m sure.  “Love your neighbour as yourself” is the one I need to contemplate.  Isn’t the thief my neighbour, too?

I’m just thankful I’ve got some great neighbours in my community who are looking out for me and my family.

Good Morning

Summer is officially here.  What I like about warmer weather is the way it draws people outside.  In winter we tend to hibernate, but in summer, we garden, we BBQ, we play and relax more, and we walk more.

I’ve been enjoying the process of transplanting flowers and watching seeds push up their first leaves.  It makes me happy to see vibrant colour where once there was only brown.

BBQ season means hospitality in our home.  One of these days I intend to invite some of our neighbours over.  A number of us have fire pits, so the summer season also brings with it the nostalgic smell of wood smoke and relaxed gatherings around the campfire (not to mention wiener roasts and ‘smores).

Call me old-fashioned, but my favourite moments outside have been simply sitting on our porch swing in the backyard or under our gazebo on an old coach with strings of Christmas lights providing ambience.  It’s getting trickier though, with canker worms and mosquitoes starting to join us.

I like to walk in the mornings.  I usually end up across the river as I enjoy the change of scenery and the landscaping ideas.  This year, the river itself has been fascinating as the water levels fluctuate.

What I’ve found most fascinating, though, is the power of a cheerful “Good morning”.  I’m a bit of an introvert by nature—more shy than bold and more of a responder than an initiator.

When I have chosen to make eye contact and smile, followed by a heartfelt “Good morning”, I have been pleasantly surprised by the results.  I used to only do this when the person approaching me seemed likely to respond in kind or seemed similar to me.  Now I try it with most anyone.  It doesn’t always work, due to earphones or an averted gaze.  Not everyone feels trusting enough or has even grown up with the idea.  I, however, grew up in a small town where it was offensive not to wave or at least lift a finger off the steering wheel when meeting another vehicle—and everyone knew everyone.

Living in the city, in a culture of independence and isolation, I don’t expect people to greet me.  But when they make eye contact and return the smile and the “good morning”, it is unbelievable what a boost to my day that small connection brings.  It’s such a great high, I think it’s almost addicting.  

I asked myself, “Why does such a small act make such a big difference in how I feel?”  I believe it’s because we, as humans, were made for relationship.  When we connect in even the simplest way, we light up and our burdens lighten, too.

When was the last time you said, “Good morning” to a complete stranger?  I challenge you to try it.  Don’t give up if you get blank looks or uncomfortable silences.  Start with warmth in your eyes and a smile on your face.  It gets easier with practice.  Once you get your first “Good morning” back, you’ll be hooked!

Fences

When we moved into the North End five years ago, we made a conscious decision not to build a high privacy fence.  In our last home in West Kildonan, we enjoyed sharing yards with our neighbours and their kids.  Although we needed a fence in our new place, both for our kids’ freedom and their protection, we didn’t want to shut off contact with our neighbours.  So we had a chain link fence put in (it didn’t hurt that it was cheaper).

There have been drawbacks, of course.  When belongings are plainly visible to all those walking by, they are easier targets for theft.  Theft is the main reason that many in my neighbourhood are resorting to tall wooden fences, locked front gates, and high sliding back gates.  And the attempted theft and vandalism of our vehicles is why we would love a garage.

I still have mixed feelings about a garage as it will cut off my view of the back alley and make us even more separate from our neighbours on the other side.  

Our decision to be visible to the neighbours beside us has been of benefit to us for the most part.  Seeing as both houses are rentals, we’ve had a real mix of neighbours, but we have enjoyed getting to know them.

Right now, on one side, we have fun entertaining a toddler, sharing our favourite books, lending and borrowing things, and helping each other out.  On the other side, our kids enjoy the attention three brothers give them.  We are amazed at how patient they are with all the questions our kids ask.  If you come by, you will often see a game of hoops or catch happening across the fence.

Fences are a shared border between properties.  Fences give a sense of what belongs to whom.  Fences help keep what/whom we love, safe from intruders.  Disagreements over fences have been known to create animosity between neighbours for years.  The fences in a community reflect the level of trust and the openness among its inhabitants and are a powerful tool in shaping the life of a community.  We need to be careful that our fences don’t prevent us from experiencing the joy of sharing with those who live near us.

Regardless of how different from us we perceive our neighbours to be, our lives will be enriched when we decide to find common ground and build relationship.  Sometimes it comes down to the type of fence we choose.

Dandelions--the North End Flower

If the North End were to have a floral emblem, it would have to be the dandelion.  In my neighbourhood, they run rampant.  If any other flower grew that prolifically, say, like a field of daisies, poppies, or tulips, people would be much more likely to call the show of bright colour a beautiful sight.  But not the dandelion.

Most view the dandelion as a persistent and problematic weed responsible for ruining their lawn.  In the suburbs and other more highly sought-after neighbourhoods, home owners go to great lengths to eliminate dandelions and anyone who takes a more laissez-faire approach is frowned upon.  It happens in my home-town, too.

Here, in the North End, with the high percentage of rental homes, there is much less emphasis on image and even less accountability.  And so, the dandelions thrive.  I imagine this causes some home-owners in our area great consternation.  Others have likely just given up fighting the inevitable.  And some, like me, are devising ways of adapting by eliminating lawns altogether.  I’m seeing a great deal of mulch going into new builds on my street.  I’m hoping to create low-maintenance landscape with perennials if I can just figure out a good design for my front yard.

Dandelions aren’t all bad though.  Did you know that the root is helpful for liver, kidney, and gall bladder health and a mild laxative?  Apparently, it aids in the production of bile (by the liver) which is needed to digest/convert fats.  It also acts as a diuretic, which means it helps the body release fluid from the cells, alleviating water retention and aiding in detoxification.  The leaves can be used as salad greens or in infusions and have similar benefits to the root.

So, the next time you have the satisfaction of pulling out a dandelion with its entire taproot intact, take a bite and enjoy the health benefits.  Just make sure you wash it, scrub it, and soak it for 5 or 10 minutes first—it’s much less bitter that way!  To aid you in your quest to remove dandelions, there are specially-designed dandelion forks available.  I imagine Pollock’s Hardware Co-op on Main Street would be a great place to look.

Can the dandelion teach us anything?  I wonder.  I think that it reminds us to look at what we consider to be problems in a new light, and to look for the good in people.

Rhubarb and Lilacs

I live in the North End, the true North End--where most yards, but not all, have a rather untamed look to them.  When spring comes to the North End, two things become much more apparent: the garbage which accumulated over winter and is no longer hidden by the snow, and the growth of certain plants which particularly thrive in the yards of our community.  Both can be seen as annoying.  The garbage should be taken care of in the next week or so.  The plants are another story.

Some are stubborn weeds like dandelion and burdock.  Others are the result of history--it would seem that those who came before us had a particular liking for lilacs and rhubarb.  I don't think there's anywhere else in the city where you can stroll the sidewalks and take in the delicious scent of lilacs yard after yard. 

Unfortunately, many of these bushes, like mine, have been left to themselves and badly need some TLC.  I am hoping to bring in a few branches and enjoy their beauty on my kitchen table (if I can reach them).

Rhubarb's large, ruffled leaves can be found all over the North End.  I'm still not sure if these wild plants have edible stalks or not.  I do love when my neighbour gives me a bunch to chop and freeze.  It's yummy cooked up with strawberries on top of pancakes.  (Sharing among neighbours is another thing I love about the North End, but I'll save that for another day).

That leaves dandelions and burdock (those tall stalks with burrs that stick to you in fall).  They could probably be discussed in their own story, so for now, I’ll say this about my community: there is a beauty that can be found in my community, passed down through generations of immigrants and other people who have struggled to make a living here.  Some of that beauty can be seen through what was planted long ago and has survived, and some of it is evident in the simple act of sharing what we have with each other.  It is a good reminder to think of the effects our actions have on the future as well as on those we live near every day.