Gratitude, disappointment and lillies

So I found myself hanging out at my old school today. The weather was beautiful, the trees were in bloom, the air was sweet with the smell of fresh grass and flowers.

I took the 45 minute drive that actually took an hour to give some tshirts I had promised to the tech support staff, and maybe chat a bit. It seemed like a good idea at the time. But unfortunately, like so many things in my life, that didn't happen the way I planned.

You see, it all started with day lillies. Yes, day lillies.

My neighbor, Jim, has these really robust day lillies in his yard. A few years ago I mentioned that they were the inspiration for the front garden I started at my house. He replied that not only do those lillies grow without any effort from him, but he needs to thin them every year or they start to move out of the boundaries of his border garden and try to overtake his yard. This gave logic to his asking me, last year, if I wanted any lillies from his yard. At that time I was doing a travelling gig for Microsoft, and really didn't have time.

This year comes, and at some point, while snow was still thick on the ground, Jim asks if I want any lillies for this spring. I agreed, of course, because they are proven hardy in my region, healthy, and really cheap (ala free).

Well, time passed. I got busy doing the networkworld thing, and didn't have time...until today (well not even today, but Jim didn't know that). Jim was outside working on his truck when I happened to drive into my parking spaceafter returning from some errands. There was no getting around it, as soon as I got out he was going to ask me to take some of his lilly plants. Even though I had other things to do, I was just going to have to deal with the lillies.

I got out of the car, at which time Jim asked me if I wanted help digging out his lillies (of course). He proceeded to get his shovel and give me about (all told) a hundred pounds of lillies (the whole plants, bulbs, and their surrounding dirt). Seriously, about ten big, armload bunches of lillies. I thanked him sincerely for his efforts, grateful for the flowers but worried about timing. Once those bad boys are out of the dirt, then you've got about an hour before they start dying in the sun. So, suddenly I had a big commitment on my hands.

So there I was, standing in the sun (irish, pale, freckles, not good in direct sunlight) having to dig hole after hole in the garden to plant these damn lillies. No planning, no prepping, just dig, dig, dig, dig, dig, dig....you get the idea, then plant. Then water, the hose leaking everywhere, water pressure oddly intermittent. At that point, it was almost two hours later, I was thirsty, getting hungry, covered in dirt and sweat, and late.

Woo hoo. *Now* it's time to drive for an hour and go visit people. And, feeling both glad that I got the lillies done, and cranky because I had been sweating dirty in the sun for over an hour for *any* reason, I got into my car and headed out.

So I get to B-town, and find my contact deep in a long conference call (I was late getting there, of course, and she couldn't cancel), so I dropped off the tshirts discreetly, and left quietly (no chance to chat and possibly drum up new business). That left me with way too much time on my hands. It was probably going to be an hour's drive back, and I had been there a whopping five minutes. What to do, what to do? (insert jeopardy thinking music here)

Well, I hadn't put much stock in it, but why not call an old friend in the area and see what he was up to? I had mentioned to him in email that I might be stopping by. He hadn't responded to that mention, but hey, wouldn't hurt to email him again.

Mind you, this old friendship has a lot of uneasiness built into it (much, much more about that later, if requested). As a matter of fact, "friendship" is probably the wrong word to describe it, but I like to make believe I am in polite company, so I won't call it anything else for right now.

So, I planned to email him what I intended to be an informative note as to where I was, what I was going to do, when I was going to do it, and how to get in touch with me (since my cell phone was out of range in that godsforsaken town (birthplace of a disciples of christ, but still, no cell phone?!)). Unfortunately, the lab I was typing in comes equipped with MS antispyware (I do really like MSAS and us it on all of my machines). This product is pretty open about announcing any little thing that crosses its digital mind, and popped into the foreground right as I was typing. What happened at that point, from my end, was I was typing the first sentence of the email, then suddenly the email I was writing in disappeared and I ended up back at my web interface inbox. I checked my sent mail, no sign of the message (thinking maybe it sent itself somehow---this was in fact the case, but more on that later), so I thought it must have been deleted/disappeared.

Now as a computer professional, you'd think I'd know better, but this was gmail, and I have had things like this happen before because the interface can be crappy. So I thought nothing more of it (other than to be irritated).

I then decided, before going any further, I would grab a cup of tea, take a little walk around, then try the email thing again. So, that's what I did.

About forty minutes later (the campus is really hilly, and it was a pretty day, so the walk was long, ambling, and slow), I saunter back, tea in hand, to check my email again. No response. I write another post saying that I was going to be at the library, I'd give him a call. I then went there, at which time I received an email from him saying he went to the computer lab, I wasn't there, period ( I find out much later that he was responding to the aborted, completely uninformative disappearing email that did in fact post). No other response, no other ideas.

Hmmm, not taking the hint, I immediately called his home number and office to get in touch, to apologize for ducking out and see if he wanted catch some grub and chat before school let out and we both went our separate ways.

Assuming all was well, we had just humorously missed each other, I hung out at the library like I said I would in my second email. After a few hours-- I was just burned out on reading, studying (for yet another certification test), and generally not taking advantage of the beautiful weather-- I emailed him letting him know that I was leaving.

Once my phone was back in service, I checked my voicemail. No messages (from him anyway). When I got home, checked my email, no messages.

So, I guess, because I wasn't in the computer lab, he's pissed or something.

Moral of the story--

Don't try to visit old friends while hot, sweaty, tired, dirty, and hungry (by that point), without clear plans beforehand. My mistake was, after receiving no response to my warning that I'd be in the area, I should have realized that he didn't really want to hang out to begin with. That meant that the inconvenience of going to the lab and finding me not there was just more than he could bear. He didn't feel up to any more effort.

On the upside, I did get quite a bit of work done at the library, and both the locale and the weather were beautiful. Other than that odd misunderstanding, it was a really nice visit. It's good sometimes to leave home and breathe the air of a different place for a while.

I tell you one thing, now that I think of it, I am really grateful to Jim for those liliies. All things considered, they made my day (who needs to chat really?). I got something nice for free, genuine no strings attached help, and good reason to get something done in my garden that may well last a lifetime.

Yeah.

May I have the microphone please? (ahem)

Jim (who will never read this), Thank you. Thank you for being a good neighbor. Thank you for the lillies.

Second Moral of the story--- Sometimes you find friends in unexpected places, like next door. And just because a friendship is new (I moved in only a few years ago) doesn't mean it is any less real than an old one.

Oh, and sometimes you get lucky with your neighbors. It can be a rare and fleeting thing. Cherish it. For when they move, assholes are almost guaranteed to move in. Avoid regret when you can, appreciate the quiet, kind, inobtrusive people next door before it's too late. Let them help you, thank them when you can, probably as much as you do will not really be enough. Help them back whenever possible. Don't require a thank you. I bet, eventually, they will be grateful and thank you when you least expect it. That's how neighboring goes.

I promise to be sure to thank Jim more for the lillies and try my hardest to not let them die so he won't be disappointed. Amen.

Peaceout,

-callahan

intrepid presenter, human-in-training