Blue Pot Diplomacy

 

The blue pot is outside my Nest. That's the studio I bought for retirement, but when I married, it was too small so we rented a larger flat two doors down. The street is considered one of the prettiest in the village.

 

We keep the Nest, as we call it, as a guest room. 

We were surprised to find one of my blue pots moved next door. We moved it back. It was moved again, we returned it to its proper place again and it was moved to my neighbors this time with new and healthier plants.

I had not met my new neighbor, but I knew he was a retired Frenchman. When I knocked on his door, he wasn't there. I wrote a note in French. Translation:

Hello, I'm your neighbor and the owner at Number 30.

I am curious why you keep moving the blue pot next to your house. I bought that pot in Spain eleven years ago. I see you have replanted it (thank you). We are moving it back. If you want me to give you the money for the plants you bought, let me know how much.

D-L Nelson

Rick moved it back and it stayed. I received a receipt for eight euros. I put the eight euros through his mail slot and I received a thank you back.

We could have turned that into a neighborhood feud, but the street is small and narrow. We could have had a screaming fight. I wondered if it could be handled calmly.

Still, I have not met the man. Or maybe I have. I've no idea what he looks like. We use the entrance of where we live on the parallel street. If and when we are face to face, I won't bring up the subject unless he does.

His plants have flourished.