Neighborhood Full Moon Gathering
Last evening Dwight called and invited us to an impromptu bonfire-and-popcorn gathering. Joel and I arrived after most of the other neighbors were already there. The five people from Tanya's house were there. And Gene and Doris, and Ollie and Emma and Andrea, and Rosina and Elijah (glad for something to do while Will was at a school board meeting). The Miller Seed crowd was absent--probably still loading out trucks or recovering from having done so.
It was a perfect occasion to gather with people we often see but don't often sit down to chat with. The moon was full and gorgeous, the sky was clear, and the air was nippy. The fire felt wonderful.
"Did any of you see the semi in the ditch by the Miller Seed sign?" I asked. Emma said the truck was blocking the road when she was on her way home. I had come by when the young driver was standing back to observe the mess. The tractor was lodged in the muddy ditch right next to the sign, facing west, and tipped alarmingly. The trailer was still attached, although at a very sharp angle to the tractor. The driver had apparently taken a very wide corner and didn't get it reined in in time to keep everything tracking right. "Are you getting help?" I called out from Partridge Road.
"Someone's coming," he answered. I waved and went on. Times have changed. Troubles of this nature used to necessitate a walk or ride to someone's residence where help could be summoned in person or by telephone.
Around the fire, Dwight popped popcorn over the coals while Karen held the baby, the adults nursed cups of hot chocolate or mint tea, the children dashed about in the big area outside the ring of lawn chairs and blankets near the fire, the dog nuzzled a few of the guests, and all was peaceful and well.
Going away on a weekday evening is so much more welcome when I haven't been gone all day and have to think of getting to bed promptly so I can rush off the next morning.
I like this sabbatical perk.
It was a perfect occasion to gather with people we often see but don't often sit down to chat with. The moon was full and gorgeous, the sky was clear, and the air was nippy. The fire felt wonderful.
"Did any of you see the semi in the ditch by the Miller Seed sign?" I asked. Emma said the truck was blocking the road when she was on her way home. I had come by when the young driver was standing back to observe the mess. The tractor was lodged in the muddy ditch right next to the sign, facing west, and tipped alarmingly. The trailer was still attached, although at a very sharp angle to the tractor. The driver had apparently taken a very wide corner and didn't get it reined in in time to keep everything tracking right. "Are you getting help?" I called out from Partridge Road.
"Someone's coming," he answered. I waved and went on. Times have changed. Troubles of this nature used to necessitate a walk or ride to someone's residence where help could be summoned in person or by telephone.
Around the fire, Dwight popped popcorn over the coals while Karen held the baby, the adults nursed cups of hot chocolate or mint tea, the children dashed about in the big area outside the ring of lawn chairs and blankets near the fire, the dog nuzzled a few of the guests, and all was peaceful and well.
Going away on a weekday evening is so much more welcome when I haven't been gone all day and have to think of getting to bed promptly so I can rush off the next morning.
I like this sabbatical perk.
posted by Mrs. I at
8:08 PM
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