Becoming Neighbourly:
Delivering connections revisited
We had a flying visit to Plymouth in the South West of the UK recently, the City where we first moved to England over 14 years ago. We were reminded of our time there; the people and places we treasured and also some things (like the damp!) we weren’t so sorry to have left behind.
This post linked below was written a couple of years ago about life on our special little lane in Plymouth during and after the pandemic. Since many of you have come along since I wrote this, I thought I might repost it now. Also, in truth, I have been struggling a bit during the election in the US this week; writing was pushed to the side, replaced by distracting news reports.
Seeing my beloved former neighbours earlier this week reminded me that there are wonderful people everywhere in the world, tucked in amongst the busyness of our daily routines. Now more than ever, we need to be those people to each other. I offer this up in the hopes it will bring you a little cheer, too. ❤️
Delivering connection
It’s funny how one memory takes you down a lane that leads to pleasant recollections that had started to slip away. And sometimes those bring insights that also hadn’t quite hit the surface of conscious thought.
One of my favourite reads here on Substack is by Rebecca Holden, who writes Dear Reader, I'm lost. Rebecca wrote (awhile ago now) about how she and her husband procure fresh eggs from roadside stands with honesty boxes as they travel in their van around the UK countryside. It’s a great read and I highly recommend it.
Her post reminded me of the fresh eggs we had delivered weekly when we lived in Devon. We learned about egg delivery when a half-dozen box of fresh eggs was left by our front door one day. Wow. I was a bit uneasy, to be honest, coming from a busy suburb in California, where going to the farmers market on a Sunday to buy fresh food rather than go to a supermarket was a pretty radical act.
I was already getting my organic produce delivered weekly, so I have no idea why getting eggs the same way seemed so risky. My neighbours got their eggs from an egg lady every week, and they survived. Eventually, after much dithering, I got over my fears and signed up with her egg lady. Of course the whole process was easy, and the eggs were always delicious (obviously). At certain times of year, they offered their fresh potatoes too, and since I had a ‘no roots’ veggie box, having access to potatoes now and again was handy.
Preferring not to shop in supermarkets, we had our groceries delivered every few weeks long before the pandemic; getting our food was low-effort, high-reward. There were a couple of small corner shops within walking distance if there was a food emergency, and often we swapped eggs, sugar, flour and other basics (or sometimes gin on a Friday evening) with our neighbours when needed.
Then the pandemic hit.
Like everywhere, normal habits and processes slowly ground to a halt, stopped entirely, and then slowly, eventually readjusted and reformed. Amazingly, for a few weeks, our main food sources were the eggs and produce that continued to be delivered. And I’ll just shout out now hooray for the many small businesses who were quiet, consistent heroes during the pandemic.
Our groceries did not continue to be delivered, as the priority was rightly given to those who were at high risk for infection, and we were not. So for awhile we shopped like everyone else, gloved and masked up, at supermarkets mainly stripped of basics.
However, we had a couple of other unexpected delivery delights during that time. One was a local wine merchant who created and delivered ‘value wine boxes’. If you chose to get delivery on a Saturday, you could also add baguettes from a local bakery and cheese and saucisson from France with the order. Win! For Valentines Day the second year they added homemade macaroons.
The most unexpected delivery surprise was from one of my co-commuters on the Ferry. We had a little WhatsApp group for those of us who regularly took the Ferry back and forth to Plymouth, including the boat operators, so we could keep each other apprised of changes in schedule, personal news, and notices of periodic gatherings at a local pub. During the lockdown phase of the pandemic we checked in on each other, shared jokes and resources, and otherwise kept a little cheer and connection going since we weren’t getting to see each other anymore.
I wouldn’t always check messages when I heard a notification until one afternoon my phone starting buzzing and tinging like crazy. A message had come round from the person in the group who worked at the Plymouth Gin Distillery, asking if anyone wanted anything from the store delivered. Well. It was like asking if Santa Claus could come over to deliver extra cash gifts and presents in July, for free. It seems EVERYONE in the group wanted at least one bottle of something. It would be rude not to take her up on the offer, right?
I know, I started off this post talking about egg delivery. But remembering all these other delivery treats and the creative ways people figured out how to keep going during lockdown helped me realise that these are the sorts of links that made me feel most at home, in our community, with people around helping each other out.
Besides the deliveries, we paid attention, checked in on each other casually, politely, and maintained a reassuring presence in each other’s lives. Not in your face presence, but quietly, with small gestures and little kindnesses: an offer to go for a walk, pick up groceries, a key left to borrow some chairs when away, watering each other’s plants, moving cars to allow for friends and workers to park closer on our compact lane. The bonds developed slowly, almost without noticing.
A decade after moving to the UK, not knowing if I really fit in, and wondering where was home, really; after this pandemic time in our little lane, with our network of creative helpers in our extended community, I was pretty sure I’d found home again.
It was no surprise then that our hearts broke a little when we knew we were going to have to leave.
That’s it from me this week. Wishing you all the comfort of friends, neighbours, family, loyal fur babies, beauty in the natural world: all the important things that keep our hearts beating true. ❤️
xoxo Sabrina
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Oooooooooh, how lovely to read this again, Sabrina - and thank you so much for the mention!
Community is so important, isn't it? Although it's always been my default position to keep myself to myself for the most part I deeply appreciate the people where I live and the sense of community that we share with our friends and neighbours. x
What a lovely post about community, thoughtfulness, and appreciating the small, nice things people can do for one another. Just what we need at the moment. Thank you for re-posting this important message. It fills me up.
It's time to double down on doing those kind acts to one another and pay attention to do those for us. We're going to need them!
I certainly understand your distraction. Everything seems to be a big fat blur right now. It's going to take quite a while to bring things into focus.