On Sunday during sacrament meeting it hit me how grateful and happy I am to live where I do. Our ward is a real community, and a mix of kinds of families. Who all happen to think my kids are cute, and give me sourdough starter, and sell us eggs, give blessings to neighbors and ask our help with that. Our elderly next door neighbors bring over boxes of garden and orchard spoils, since I'm too black thumbed to grow my own.
Our neighborhood beyond our ward is also cool. Calvin has a little gang of friends around his age nearby, although we don't all live in a row and they don't play every day, it's close enough and often enough. We got "Boo-ed" from some unknown neighbor, and Calvin chose a bus friend down the road that I don't know to Boo in return. It made me happy, too, when we biked around to deliver his birthday party invitations (party held at the park one house away).
This part of the state is still rural enough to feel like we're out in the country, and Nate works in an industry that supports lots and lots of local livelihoods. It is beautiful here, except from January to March, but for now I'm pretending that part of the year doesn't exist.
Which reminds me; remind me to read this post in January, February and March.