Last night after cleaning up from a scrumptious, smoky steak and chicken meal that was waiting for me when I came home (the result of simply saying "yes" when someone asks if they and their kids can spend some time at my apartment pool), I cleaned my abode and chatted with a neighbor who had dropped by. When we wound up on the patio watering plants, an actual coolness was in the air ("cool" being now defined in Houston-in-May-terms which means it wasn't 90+ degrees). So we sat a while . . . another friend dropped by when he heard our voices on his way to his place . . . and then another. We didn't linger half the night. I'm not sure we were even out there an hour. But the concluding hugs assured me that the time was good for all.
Maybe we don't sit on porches and watch the sun set on our crops as our parents did, but we have our own way of communing.
And I like it!
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