When we first moved into this house twelve years ago, it was basically because my mother had passed away and left enough money for a downpayment on the bigger house we always wanted but never seemed to be able to afford. Crappy reason. But this house has always felt like a big embrace to us. Big enough. Cozy. Home. And the kid got to move to a new school and escape one of those teachers from hell you get every once in awhile, especially if you're a square peg type of person and have a great sense of humor and end up in a pod person's classroom.
But I digress.
So here's the thing. Life had been spitting on us for awhile. Economic downturns. Job down sizing. Money leaking out to pay for this and that. Enormous suckage.
And we move into this house for this very sad reason even though we love the house.
And on the first day of school, I drive home with my kid and discover that our new neighbors have a tradition. Couple of moms set up card tables on the one of the lawns. People bring out lemonade and cookies. And stay there as each wave of kids - elementary through high school - come home.
Can you picture it? Every kid from age five to eighteen gathered on the lawn, hanging out, sipping warm lemonade and munching snickerdoodles. Honestly, I thought I'd died and gone to cookie heaven.
Life had been giving us lemons. But now we had lemonade. Really.
Missed that today as I drove home just now from picking up my dry cleaning. The core group of kids has grown up. No more lawn parties. At least not this year.
Til next time...