Honest, I'm just trying to welcome the new neighbors

One of the nicest surprises when we first moved here was a military wife showing up on our doorstep with a plate of freshly-baked cookies welcoming us to the neighborhood. This simple act of kindness left such an impression on me that I decided to try to extend the same hospitality to any new people that move near us. I got my chance this week. A new military family, assigned to Husband’s same unit, recently moved into a house on our street. I decided to bake some brownies to welcome them. (Of course, I had to sample one to make sure they were up to brownie standards. They were. But I had to eat a few to make sure.) The only problem is that I’ve stopped by twice to deliver the brownies in person, only to find that there is no one home. (I would call first, except I don’t know their phone number. Or even their name.) I fear that all of my trips to their house are quickly moving me from “Hi, I want to welcome you to the neighborhood” to “Hi, I’m the neighborhood stalker.” And I can only imagine what our other neighbors think when they see me traipsing back and forth to this house with a plate of brownies. I was hoping to deliver the brownies soon, so they would still be fresh. Because I’m assuming that a plate of nice and stale brownies says a lot of things, except probably not “welcome.” I’m going to stop by just one more time tonight. If I’m not successful, I might as well surrender to my stalker status. Or, I’ll just have to sample a few more brownies to check their freshness.