Being Neighborly

Growing up I can distinctly remember times where we stopped at a pay phone (ha!) to call people and ask if it was convenient that our family stop by, as we happened to be in the neighborhood. This culturally obligatory frantic-cleanup barrier provided a grace period I did not quite understand until I had a home of my own. Time to get dressed, shove extra items in closets, do a quick vacuum. With the courtesy call, a home keeper had a chance to get hold of herself and her home, and could meet you, ready (albeit breathless and red-faced from hurry) at the door when you finally dropped in.
Rarely is such courtesy afforded in the country. This, I did not know before I moved here, and it's taken getting used to the new custom. And I'll tell you a secret: I am now a perpetrator, guilty of drop-ins-without-notice. And I LIKE it.
The first time I experienced this walk-in culture was when Ryan had his seizure, and by the time we returned, two neighbors had been in our basement, fixing a leaky pipe.
Since then, I have become used to the knock, no answer, open and call culture. Of course, this is only OK between friends- we don't just do this with people we don't know (I'm sure there are NRA members in the country, too).
Yesterday I was talking with a group of women who had also been caught off-guard:
"I was upstairs taking a shower. When I came downstairs, there was a plate of cookies on my kitchen table. I stood very still, and then slowly turned around. I called out..no answer. I KNOW that plate wasn't there when I went up to take a shower...either I am losing it or someone had been in my house!"
Another chimed in with a laugh "I learned my lesson about staying in my bathrobe half the morning. If I don't want to be greeted that way, I make sure to get dressed first thing!"
I didn't mention, bud did recall times where I had done just this very thing with friends- leaving a loaf of bread or some cinnamon rolls not on their porch, but on their kitchen counter. Sometimes I add a note, explaining, other times I just simply leave and run. I admit it, I have a problem. Also? I can hear my mom's quiet gasp "I raised you better, honey!"
As a result of this culture, many more of my Iowan friends and acquaintances have seen an untidy house than my Washington friends, but it has also allowed for a more relaxed atmosphere. See, I have seen THEIR lived-in houses, too. Reality is, there is no perfect home all the time. Most of us have toddlers, teenagers, (selves?) that live in our homes, and that makes them...gasp...imperfect. And though we are constantly working on our houses: their homeyness, improvement, welcoming nature, this culture of drop-ins has one of two effects- you go insane with trying to hold it all together at all times, or you relax just a bit, and realize that there are more important things to hospitality than perfection.