I’ve been meaning to tell you about my two neighbors, The Crony Brothers, who live directly across the street from me. I’ve been trying to secretly take pictures of them to show you, but alas, I’m not cut out for a career as paparazzi. Every shot had a tomato leaf in it or they're scratching their butt, well, you get the idea. So, I’m simply going to tell you about them.
The Crony Brothers are two retired brothers who are both widowers. They sit in the front of their garage each morning and afternoon soaking in the sun, sipping coffee or beer, and stare out at my garden. They both test each other’s nerves like brothers do, and I’ve heard them arguing about fishing. The older brother sings Irish chanteys while he works on his truck. And they both charm me.
I usually bring them a slice or sample of whatever I’ve been whipping up in the kitchen. And they first look at my hands when they answer the door to see what I’ve brought them, this time. I even hit them up for an ingredient every now and again when I don’t want to run to the store.
They refer to my garden as The Menagerie. And I imagine them leaning back in their lawn chairs in their garage, basking in the warm afternoon sun, sipping beer and watching me work in my garden. The younger brother says, “What is she up to in The Menagerie? She has enough plants.”
While the other brother simply cocks his eyebrow in agreement and says, “When do you want to head out to go fishing tomorrow?”
Today, I stopped by to drop off a couple of scones and the younger Crony Brother handed me a plant sample to identify, a Common Nightshade. "Use it to make jam for your enemies." He always has the first ripe tomato of the season that he hands me with a smile. I enjoy The Crony Brothers and hope that someday soon they’ll offer me a cold beer too.