Garden Care in the Community

A look at some of our most close to home communities - and how we become members whether we want to or not

It’s 23rd December 2025. My wife and I are in an absolute panic. Number 13 have put a Christmas card through the door.

“I thought we were only doing immediate neighbours”

“Well, they’ve sent us one, so now we need to send them one”

“We didn’t bother with Julie and her husband and we sort of know them”

“Just keep looking”

“Okay - but do you promise me we don’t have to do them again next year?”

---

It’s 15 March 2026 and I am in the garden centre trying to choose the best scissors to cut the edges of my lawn. For some reason I am looking forward to doing this. It’s been playing on my mind for weeks. I’ve been letting the street down.

---

It’s 5th May 2026. The wife from number 16 is handing me her house keys. She tells me the house will be empty for the next two weeks while they are in Cyprus. I’m really trying hard not to get into a situation where I’ll need to say her name. I think I have it written down somewhere.

---

Edging the lawn isn’t such a bad job. On a nice day it’s quite relaxing and it does look nice when it’s finished. It still doesn’t look quite as nice as next doors. There’s a hedge though, so nobody has to see them side-by-side. My bit of the hedge does look a bit wonky - better get the trimmers out.

It’s not that I don’t like having a tidy house - but if my neighbours houses didn’t look quite so nice. I don’t think I’d bother doing this every week. It’s not like I feel a pressure to do it either - nobody has ever complained - I feel a compulsion. Not to keep up with the neighbours - to fit in with the neighbours.

All of them, the couple with the barky dog, the old lady with the acer on the front lawn, Julie and... Mr Julie.

I really like Mr Julie - he’s always willing to lend a few tools and never moans about taking our parcels in. We have the odd chat - he’s quite personable. He even invited us to his summer barbeque - he actually bought it on my recommendation. I really wish it wasn’t too late to ask his name.

This would be easier if people put their real pictures on the WhatsApp group instead of their children or their pets. I’ve learned it’s best to keep the group chat separate from the real world - just in case Steve isn’t who I think he is. He’s definitely not the golden retriever. They haven’t got thumbs.

If I try not to overthink it - which is not a skill that comes naturally to me - then it’s all very pleasant. Charming, even. I see the same faces pass by the house. They walk their dogs, take their kids to school, get the bins in. With a friendly “Hi Mate” and “Howdy Neighbour” we keep our connection alive.

We don’t really know each other, but we’ve built a community. Every borrowed ladder, every bin returned home and every offer of a cup of tea brings us closer together. No matter where we’ve lived before, and where we’ll live in the future. At this very second we’re “The Adelaide Road Massive” (for clarity, I haven’t floated that name with anyone on the street yet).

Anyway - back to the lawn for the moment. I know that’s why you are here. It’s looking a little bit weedy. I’d tried getting some tips online. They didn’t work, I’m not sure my lawn works the same as one in California. Number 12 really does have a very good example though. It could be a putting green. He’s putting us all to shame.

He reckons it’s about constant mowing. For me, that requires bringing the mower around the house, finding an extension cable etc. It’s too much work - maybe I need another mower. One I can leave outside - then I can cut it twice a week.

It’s becoming clear now - I need a routine. Mowing on Monday and Wednesday. Weeding on Saturday. I’ll do the edges on Sunday. I’ll just have to squeeze the hedge in where I can between work and the baby. Does that line up with the green bins? I think it will be okay.

That reminds me - I’m not at home during the day on Thursday. I don’t want our bins out all day when everyone else puts theirs away. Maybe I can ask number 12 - they must owe me a favour.

I sometimes think about getting it all paved over, but then I already spend my Tuesday’s looking after the existing drive. As much as I like Mr Julie, I feel like he holds using his jet washer over me though. I’ve had to get his bins in three times now.

Hang on - the lights are on at number 16. Are they back from Cyprus? Christ - when did they go? Why do I never write any of this down? My notebook is all just stupid essay ideas. Oh God - I promised to keep an eye on the place. Do I call the police?

I can’t take the stress, the obligations are piling up. I wanted to move somewhere and put down roots. I wanted a quiet life, peace with my young family. It started small, the welcome cards, the tins of biscuits. Then we were in on the WhatsApp group. Now I’m worrying whether I’ve lent number 13 my ladder enough times to warrant borrowing his drill!

He did let me borrow that drill though. So, I guess that maybe the obligations are worth it for the favours, the helping hands, the kind words, the WhatsApp chain messages. That time number 17 helped me dig the snow around my driveway. When number 12 didn’t make a big fuss of me driving over her plant pots.

I never really had to do anything to join the community either - there was no initiation, no membership fee, no charter. I just turned up one day and they took me in.

And now, when I look out of the house I see a lovely street for the children to grow up. I imagine barbecues with Mr Julie (maybe I can teach him my brisket recipe). Chatting about the lawn with number 12. Waving as the dog walkers pass by.

I’m lucky really. Perhaps none of these people know who I am really am. I’m the guy from number 18 who is, for some reason, on his hands and knees cutting his grass with scissors. Now I think about it - am I making them feel bad about their lawn?

Probably not.

Anyway - they might not know the real me, and I might not know them but they are still part of my crew. We’ve got each others backs. Maybe I’m re-thinking the Christmas card ban - but still only the top end of the road.