July Front Porch

If the theme in my flowerbeds is lush and over grown (and it is), there there is no reason such a theme cannot be carried over to the front porch.  And so it does.

T gave me a flip flop flag and wreath and July is the perfect month for a woman loathe to wear shoes.

The ease of Summer is something I long for in the cold weather and never take for granted when the warm days settle around us.  I start my day on this front porch every day of the Summer and I never tire of the plant-fortified view that greets me in the morning.

Given the time, I’m out here in the afternoon with my iced tea and my books.  It’s my favorite room of the house this time of year and I spend so much time here that I can spy a new leaf on my plants the moment it first begins to bud.  Pandemic worries aside, the Summer is determined to fly right past.  I am making the most of it while it’s here.

Hillbilly Prep

Saturday and Sunday we had two days of sunshine in a row and the entire town shot outdoors to cope with the mess in our yards.  Loads of tree branches had come down in the snowstorm 10 days prior and had lingered there while we waited for the foot of snow to melt.  

Most of the snow had melted by Saturday and the time was nigh.

There is no love lost between me and the wife half of the family to my immediate west.  They moved here from New York in 2011, replacing a neighbor whom I loved, and they’ve never matched up to the former owner.  I like the kids, I exchange pleasantries with the husband, I am charmed by their chickens, and I don’t mind their aggressive barking dog.  But the housewife with the ever-changing hair color is never friendly (and once called the town inspector on me), so I am an icy cold polite.  On Saturday, her husband was in the backyard with a gutter cleaning crew while I was collecting branches and moving tree limbs out of the yard and into the driveway.  We exchanged pleasantries over the fence and spoke about the storm and weather, as neighbors do.  We compared notes on tree damage and basement sump pumps.  Then he mentioned that the family intended to sell their house and move to Tennessee.  I mentioned that I had lived there some years ago and had always loved the place;  I wished them good luck.

Once inside my house, I shared the news with T, who knows how I feel about the wife.  We made some jokes about New Yorkers in Tennessee and then let the matter drop.  The next day, my neighbor was once again in the yard, this time lighting a fire in his fire pit in order to burn branches and dry leaves.  This is both distinctly illegal and unwise, given the close proximity of the fire to both my house and his, but there is no accounting for common sense.  As the smoke poured into my yard and he pushed leaves to the fire with his leaf blower, T and I shook our heads.

Then, with the quiet sarcasm that I love so damned much, T offered, “He’s going to make a fine hillbilly.”  

Internet, she’s mine.

Halloween Memories

I love Halloween and the ways in which this evening feels magical as the light fades and children crunch through the leafy sidewalks dressed up as princesses and super heroes in pursuit of candy.   On Monday night, I distributed quite a bit of candy between coughing spells. I even let a couple of little boys use the bathroom (their mom was grateful).

For me, Halloween is about community and good old-fashioned fun.  Though I no-longer have a trick-or-treater of my own, the pleasure of doing our part by answering the door is plenty of fun.  To hear JT open the door, complement costumes, and distribute candy is a sweet reminder of some happy Halloweens he enjoyed.

Here’s to ghosts, goblins, princesses, witches, and candy!

Winter Walk

I enjoyed the walks I took on the milder days during Winter Break and began the new year determined to make at least one weekly walk through town.   Even as the Polar Vortex blew in with much colder weather, I kept that promise.  Most of my walks have been in the cold of the early twilight when we get home from school and wrestling practice.  But even in the fading light, I enjoy a glimpse of my neighbor’s gardens.

We had overnight snow on Friday and after I cleaned up my sidewalk and driveway, I treated myself to a walk in the slushy snow.  There is something about familiar plants draped in a coat of white that is most lovely.

The town’s streets had been plowed and most of the sidewalks had been cleared.  We had about 5 inches of snow overnight and so there was plenty of beauty to be admired.  By the afternoon, temperatures were well-above freezing and plenty of melting was underway.  

I think the snow is so lovely because in the midst of Winter’s stark appearance the snow provides a contrast that is pretty to see.

We had more snow this morning and a huge blizzard of a storm is expected later this afternoon and into the overnight.  After the boy and I have attended to our snow removal duties, we’ll be planning a few more walks to admire Mother Nature’s work.

Real Life Texts with T: Doing Right edition

The backstory: JT and I are often surprised at the degree to which men in this state opt to go shirtless.  I feel that some of them should reconsider (i.e., must I see your hairy, white, beer belly?), but our approach has been rejected.  Among the shirtless is my kind-hearted neighbor R.  To be fair, he pulls it off without an assault to our eyes or his personal dignity, and thus earns a pass on our condemnation.  The other day my 16 year old mower died and R loaned me his so I could cut the grass before it became it became a pasture.  I texted T to give her the news.

S:  I went out to mow and the mower would not start.  R loaned me his so I mowed shirtless.

T:  R's mower has high standards; you did the right thing.

JT and I may need to adjust our standards.

Halloween Report

My town is an early trick-or-treat town and the weather was lovely, which really  brought out the candy-seeking herds.  Trick-or-treaters known to me received one of these chocolate ganache cupcakes. 

The rest of the kids (all 124 of them!) received candy.  And everyone had the chance to admire my frightened pumpkin.

It was a lovely night and I managed not to run short on candy, so I think that Halloween 2010 rates as a success.

All Halloween, All the Time

This year, the calendar kindly served up a Halloween that was a two-day affair.  On Friday, we celebrated at school and on Saturday, the actual Halloween day, we got to work at home.  There was a block party in the afternoon.

And then JT's buddy D arrived for the trick-or-treat extravaganza.  The front porch was made festive.

JT donned his man-skirt; D seemed to have experienced a rather significant accident.  This happens to him every year at Halloween.  Perhaps the authorities should be notified?

The tricky twosome trolled town for candy acquisition.

They met with great success and returned home to count and catalog their loot.  Some serious candy trading ensued.

There is enough candy in my house to carry us through the coming dark and cold season. 

What He Said

After the snowstorm earlier this week, one of my neighbors made a snow man that nicely sums up my attitude toward winter:

In Praise of Neighbors

Twice a year, in July and again in October, my neighborhood holds a block party. We shut the street to cars, meet in the middle, and share food and company. The kids enjoy the freedom of riding bikes and scooters in the street. The adults are reminded of what neighborhoods are about. We talk and catch up. We share our favorite foods. We connect.

I grew up in neighborhoods with this kind of feel. It seemed natural when I was a child; now it seems downright old-fashioned. People looked out for one another...and kept track of the kids. Lost pets were returned; cups of sugar were borrowed; fresh garden produce was shared (and even the zucchini was welcomed). When I moved here two years ago, I chose the house because the neighborhood had the look and feel of what I wanted: big trees, green yards, sidewalks, and front porches. It seemed like a place with good neighbors.

And looks did not deceive. These folks are terrific and always ready with a smile and a wave. J and A, who live two doors down, scrupulously maintain the yard of the elderly man next door. Come nor'easter time, the snow blower owners always help those of us equipped with just a shovel. D, the man with the beautiful garden across the street, came across the street with his wrench to help me remove the training wheels from JT's bike. G next door helped me remove the rusty old sprinkler from my hose when the time came for a new sprinkler. And in an act far beyond simply being neighborly, N replaced my faucet when it broke off. It was a tedious job requiring extraordinary patience and hours of his time.

All of these things are offered in the spirit of kindness and neighborliness that seems a bit old-fashioned in these days of busy lives and 4 car garages. But on Second Street twice a year we pause to appreciate and enjoy the neighborhood. And because we take that time, we are able to reap the rewards all year long.

So today I will toast my nation's independence and my neighborhood's dependence. And I will enjoy the laughter of kids with water balloons and bicycles and grown ups with extra tomatoes and a willingness to help out.
Plus, I will enjoy a neighborhood potluck featuring grilled hot dogs, cold beer, and sushi. Because, hey, I live in New Jersey and that's how we do it here.