Sure, we all dream about it, borrowing an important ingredient, at an important time, from a neighbour. But how often does it actually happen?
For me, never. Until today. When I found myself without a teaspoon of “mixed spice” for a parkin. The merchants of Charlottetown were without, and while I could have made my own, I happened to run into my neighbour Andrea at the Bulk Barn yesterday, and she offered up some of hers.
The parkin is in the oven now.
Between neighbours who watched Olivia as a baby, neighbours who built me a driveway, and neighbours who fixed my canoe, I am blessed by the sandwich I find myself inside.