You've heard me wax poetic about my neighborhood before, but this past week or two have been filled with new reminders of why I love living in Lakemont...
- A week ago Friday, our neighborhood poker group convened its monthly man meeting. I realize that this may not sound like a benefit to me, but it makes me happy that my husband gets out and spends some time with such a great group of guys. It's not something he does very often -- and don't get me wrong, I love that he loves to spend time with me and the kids. But I know how much I need girls night now and then -- and I believe it's just as important for him to have guys night.
- Then we spent that Saturday night celebrating the baptism of our friends' baby boy. Not only did we get to participate in the mass with friends, blocking both ends of the pew so that all of our kids (more or less) stayed out of trouble, we wrapped up the evening at their house with barbecue, beer and cake. That's Southern Catholicism at its best.
- Later that same night, I got the Big Important Call at 1:30 a.m. -- my neighbor was in labor and ready to go to the birthing center. So I rubbed my eyes, threw on a coat and tiptoed across the dark to spend the rest of the night at their house with their toddler (aka Bird). In the morning, he seemed surprised to see me, then asked, "Pippi house?" and all was well with the world. The new baby arrived healthy and on time, and I got to be the first neighbor to see him when the proud parents came over to get Bird later in the day.
- The next day I took both kids to the grocery store, managed to survive all their whining (okay, Pippi's whining -- she hates being strapped to the cart) and landed in line behind one of our neighbors who we love and almost never see. Turned out to be the best luck of the day -- when I opened my wallet to get ready to pay, all of my credit cards were gone. While I tried not to have a total break-down, my sweet neighbor paid for my groceries and helped us out of the store. Thankfully, the thief turned out to be Pippi, who had unloaded my wallet at home earlier in the day during an unsupervised moment (sneaky baby).
- And finally, this past weekend, our neighborhood even made the newspaper for its fabulous group sledding (see photo of Junius pulling his friend KT up the hill). Thanks to too many dads with crackberries and droids, they coordinated a meet-up on the very steep hill beside the neighborhood pool and sent kids of all ages slipping and sliding with glee. Until we started getting pelted with sleet, at which point we all went home for lunch and naps. There were also grown-up tales of night sledding with beverages and baby monitors in some parts of the hood, but we missed out on that.
More about the sledding in my next post, but for now... go ahead and call your realtor, you know you want to live here. We've done it twice now and recommend it very highly.