There’s a new neighborhood that I’m living in now.
It didn’t take a moving van to get there, but I had to do a lot of work to get settled in.
It all started with an invitation.
“Tiffany has invited you to be her friend on Facebook. Click on the link below,” my computer message read.
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Her friend? What music to a mother’s ears!
Well, that computer click was just the beginning of this coffee klatch. The next thing I knew I was creating a password to get in the front door. Then they wanted a profile, photos for the album and a personal update.
I’ve had a lot of neighbors in my time, but never such nosy ones -- at least not in the first few minutes of my arrival.
To top it off, there’s a “wall” where friends talk back and forth -- constantly. And it connects me with pals I haven’t heard from in ages.
However, the question, “What are you doing?” now hovers on my computer face page, taunting me to tell this Internet community what excitement is lighting up my day. Frankly, I’m having trouble keeping up with the Joneses.
Mine reads like this:
9:00 a.m. Sitting in front of computer to write my blog.
9:03 a.m. Thinking about cookie jar. Be right back.
9:10 a.m. Sitting at computer eating cookies. Oreo cookies.
9:11 a.m. Need milk. Be right back.
9:15 a.m. Sitting at computer having cookies and milk.
9:30 a.m. Trying to write blog and thinking about cookie jar.
I’ve noticed that neither Tiffany nor my other daughter Traci show up at "the wall" much to talk about my day.
Personally, I prefer the backyard fence. You only run into your neighbor once in a while, and by then you’ve got something to say.
I remember one older neighbor lady from years ago who’d call a hello when she’d see me out hanging up clothes on the line, my toddler playing at my feet. Inez would ask about my day, then hand a plate of homemade chocolate-covered candies through the gate.
It wasn’t long before her sweetness and her gourmet chocolates enticed me to get acquainted with her church community. And it was at there that I reconnected with an old friend -- one who had never lost track of me.
God knew right where to find me. So He sent his invitation through my next-door neighbor -- over the picket fence.