in which i meet my neighbors

Yesterday I decided it'd been far too long since any sort of yard work had been done. Mind you, there's not much to do really- in the middle of a drought I refuse to water more than once a week, so the grass is pretty much brown. Doesn't bother me- then I don't have to mow it, either. But there was still some healthy grass near the hose, and weeds were everywhere. Out I went, hacking at the bushy grass with our push mower. It was hot, I'm out of shape, and when the grass is long enough the mower just won't give.

I went inside for some water. The doorbell rang.

A boy of about ten answers my 'yes?' with a deep Texas accent. 'Yew got ah minutt tah tahalk tah muh dahd?'

There was a truck waiting on the street. Instantly my mind was racing, trying to figure out if I'd done anything wrong, or what I would say if they offered lawn service.

'Just a second,' I said, and went in to get a shirt to cover my sports bra.

Turns out the guy just wanted to loan me his gas mower, which I turned down at first but he wouldn't talk no for an answer.

'Tuh Laord's seen fit tuh bless me wuth ah mohwer, ahnd Ih'm willing tuh leht yuh use ut. Tuh Laord's beehn good tuh me, blessed me wuth this cahr and such. Yuh cahn burrow ut, ahl we ahsk is that yuh pray for us!'

He came back a little while later with a gas mower, an electric edger, a blower and a weedwacker.

I didn't touch the other three, but the gas mower did help. Now I've got all this yard equipment sitting in my garage, waiting to be picked up. He gave me his phone number but I've got this irrational weirdness about strange, if kindly, thick-accented neighbors having my phone number on their cell. I keep imagining this scenario where somehow we end up married and I'm stuck playing housewife but I still have to mow the lawn because 'yuh gotta kehep up yuh figur!'

I know. I'm crazy.

Maybe he'll just come by this afternoon and pick it up without me having to ask.