We live less then a mile from from our youngest’s favorite place on earth.
He simply refers to it as “The farm”. And on the farm lives the very tolerant neighbor. He allows Mike to hang out for hours claiming he is helpful and not in the way.
My husband is good friends with the farmer and helps with planting/harvest seasons. Mike and I ran supplies up to field this week while the men were planting
He was very happy to once again “help” out on the farm.
And then I didn’t see him until long after dark. He blissfully rode away.
Thank God for nice neighbors!