A sense of community has never been more important. But have you ever borrowed a cup of sugar from a neighbour? No, neither have I.
But I've also never taken a candid photograph of someone I thought "looked suspicious" in my neighbourhood, posted images online of dog-fouling, bemoaned rambunctious teenage anti-social behaviour, or tried to find a new home for an obviously well-fed feline.
A touch of paranoia, an occasional drop of passive aggressiveness and a measure of clumsiness, but with its heart in the right place, boasting an oddly reassuring post-War spirit is my best attempt at summing up the tone of a local social media platform sweeping across our island.
A positive community spirit of a generation (or generations) gone by has been given a digital voice in Nextdoor. The locally focused platform may be unintentionally hilarious at times and a little rough around the edges, but it's the digital social medium we all need right now - at a time when the population is as apprehensive, stressed and fearful as it ever has been.
It's the tech business which has tongues wagging here. Nextdoor shines a spotlight on how communities operate at a truly local level.
It could form the basis of a psychology, or social anthropology, student's thesis. It's a fantastic insight into local communities, their fears, concerns, priorities and interests.
For those unfamiliar, or if it's yet to grace your area, Nextdoor is a Silicon Valley tech firm and social media platform - somewhere between Facebook and Gumtree - which connects neighbourhoods (a fairly wide swathe of an area and not just your own street) and allows people to post requests, or announcements.
And it's one of our own who heads up the business: former Strabane Grammar School student Sarah Friar, a now-US-based entrepreneur still with firm ties to Northern Ireland.
From lost cats (and there are a lot of lost cats), occasional and somewhat paranoid snapping of "people who look suspicious", to those wishing to borrow a hairdryer, ask for handyman advice, someone to fix a washing machine, or how to deal with trick-or-treaters amid a global pandemic, Nextdoor is a microcosmic microscope into our local communities.
Its mission statement says it seeks to create a kinder world by bringing neighbours together.
But there's a superb undercurrent of unintentional satire and humour along the way.
You're only likely to see more cats on the internet on cat-related meme sites. There are a lot of cats on Nextdoor.
"Missing cat," a post will read. "Our little furball hasn't been since since 9pm yesterday. It's just not like her." That's then quickly followed by: "Our little furball - back home and safe."
For anyone who hasn't had the pleasure of owning a feline over the years, they'll do their own thing, when they wish. Your home is merely base camp. And you're unlikely to be its only source of food, or comfort.
There's also a tranche of posts by people who don't understand that, along the lines of the following. "This little fella keeps coming round to my house. Don't think he's got a home. Looks well fed." Cat one, human zero. "Is everyone's cat in Belfast missing at the minute?" a friend jokes about the litany of posts on the platform.
Oh, and dog-fouling. You'll never see more images of canine waste in your neighbourhood than on Nextdoor - normally included in a post featuring a slew of exclamation marks to truly convey the user's dire distress at the lack of cleaning up by puppy owners.
It's also a bastion for trades recommendations - from plumbers, to tilers and handymen. "I can recommended Steve. He's very good. Give him a bell."
"Isn't he your husband, Helen?" another user responds, handing out a handful of passive aggressive wordage.
Some of it is a generation trying to grasp social media and sometimes failing. But the fact that it's happening at all has to be welcomed.
It's also become something of a jobs board, post-Covid, especially with people on reduced shifts, or hours, looking for a bit of extra work to make ends meet. Police also use the platform to connect directly with the community - posting updates to inform residents what is going on in their area, from anti-social behaviour to break-ins.
And then there's the charitable spirit, especially of late. People seeking to donate blankets, duvets and sleeping bags to the most vulnerable in society. That also includes those happy to batch-cook for those who need it. There really is a burgeoning benevolence to be found here.
Despite the odd misplaced, or unwarranted, rant, Nextdoor shows us just how resilient and deep many community roots go.
It's the sort of unity and involvement we all need right now.