“Are you alive?”

I suppose it’s a compliment of sorts. My neighbors are also my customers, and I try to project an image of a very – indeed preternaturally – reliable man. But except for shit-shoveling I do confess I kind of took this past week off and have hardly seen or spoken to anybody, and kind of forgot to turn my phone on. So when my neighbor H drove her big truck timorously down the “death to drop-ins” slope of my driveway this morning, the first words out of her mouth were “I came to see if you’re still alive.”

That seemed a little weird, since I was just over with her horses yesterday morning. But she said she tried to call me and the call went straight to voicemail, and that never happens, so she thought she should check to see if I’m all right.

‘Kay.

Turns out what she’d been calling about was she’s got this friend who needs some sand moved…