Monday, August 21, 2023

An open love letter to our neighbourhood

Andrew came home from organ lessons last Wednesday, pulled into the garage, pulled out the hedge trimmer, and gave the bush beside the garage a little haircut. It had gotten so overgrown that it was tickling the car every time he drove by and he decided, I suppose, that enough was enough. 

There are more bushes in our yard that could do with a trim. But those will have to wait until after next week because I don't think any yard work will be happening while I'm away...not because I'm the only one who ever does yard work but because the forecast for the next week is scorching. 

Anyway, Zoë chose some of the clippings and fashioned them into a crown for herself and then—because she's a nice big sister and Alexander wanted one as well—she whipped one up for her little brother, too. They were proudly walking around the cul-de-sac in their laurel-like crowns, when one of the many Miss Michelles on our street called them over to her garden, cut some black-eyed Susans, and tucked them into their crowns for them.

Here's Zoë after washing off the chocolate pudding that I told her was smeared on her cheek (she was a little embarrassed about that; we'd had German pancakes for dinner, which we like to have with pudding sometimes):

And here are Alexander and Zoë together:

Sometimes Atlanta is a hard place for me to live—it's big and full of cars—but I truly think we lucked out when we landed in this house, on this cul-de-sac, with these neighbours. We are lucky, lucky, lucky to be here (like, seriously, so blessed (but for real though)).

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