A and I were heading out to dinner on Friday after a great visit with our phenomenal, spontaneous, clairvoyant, nomadic friends Lainie and Mike (they’re heading for Colorado at the end of the month. Not sure where they’re going – just toward Colorado). As we walked out to the car, we waved to our neighbors Scott and Amy, who are trying to populate the world with gorgeous children (Zoe, Ella, Oliver).
Amy and Scott have lived two doors down from us (well, now three doors down) for four years. They are lovely people who share our fear of men with chainsaws who cut down trees on Dayton Street after 10pm, and our dislike of Mexican pipe organ music paired with Ice House that sometimes get together in the VFW on the corner and party late into the night.
Amy and Scott and A and I were two of three couples on Dayton Street who have enjoyed each other’s company over the years; the third couple, Kim and Lucas, moved away to Idaho (see earlier post “My Funny Valentine” – they report that the Valentine family is a good representation of some Idaho folk) about a year and a half ago. We all miss them.
Scott and Amy waved us over and invited us in for a drink: Kim and Lucas and their son Angus were visiting – and on their way over for dinner!
Long story short, we stayed for a drink, then another, then pizza and salad, and about three hours later, found ourselves sitting around the fire pit in their backyard, roasting marshmallows and washing them down with red wine. While we talked about the neighborhood and our house and Idaho and the RSO who lives across the alley, Zoe, Ella, and Angus (Oliver was long gone to bed) ran around the yard in the dark shrieking playing a rousing game of hide-and-seek (which was mostly just “seek”), taking occasional breaks to beg for more marshmallows.
We learned all sorts of juicy tidbits… Turns out that the mommies in the neighborhood (there is a very cute day care half a block up the street, so lots of mommies) had concocted a story about our house: clearly we had been foreclosed on, and it was a fire sale for the lot – which was bought by a developer who couldn’t see the charm in the old house, so immediately tore it down and is building a great big spec house. I love it! We are the gossip!
As we walked back to the little red house after dinner, I had an overwhelming feeling that we’ve done the right thing. For all of the uncertainty and expense and stress, we’re here because we love it here, we’re surrounded by good people, and this is a beautiful place. Our house will fit right in.
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