When J and I moved to this house nearly two years ago we discovered 'problem neighbours' which, intentionally or otherwise, gave us hell. A very difficult period tested our resolve and gave me enough baggage to create a rather disturbing album.

On the other side we were welcomed by a nice old lady called Cynthia who sympathized, worked quietly and tended to her beautiful garden. Recently she suffered some ill health and was recuperating at home when, this afternoon, she suddenly died. It was more of a shock for her other neighbour who had seen Cynthia in the morning, popped back to her own house for a bite to eat and then returned to find her dead.

Grief is an odd thing. We've watched the man next door watering Cynthia's plants and quietly crying.

We lit candles and drank a toast to our nice neighbour.


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