The Beat Goes On….

It’s Saturday.

I’ve had my mid-afternoon reflection time (crying spell) after working the food bank and a spontaneous tailgate party with the neighbors… now it’s time to cook dinner. But it’s more interesting to be distracted by neighbors talking about perennials, plantings, hockey and baseball while attempting to shovel the maple tree junk off the driveway and sip a cool glass of Pinot Grigio (South Africa’s Flat Roof Manor).

I’ve missed my neighbors. It’s so nice to sit out and watch the kids wreck gardens playing football. The big boys are talking about tonight’s big game (‘Hockey?’, I asked) which will be followed by an outdoor gathering around the fire pit.

I love my neighbors. So much is unspoken and lovely. We cherish each other, our differences and our acceptance of those differences. Tonight we will amalgamate food wine, beer, other, in celebration of the big ‘game’. Kate’s assembling spicy salami, a variety of cheeses and cherries onto a platter of consumable goodness. I’ve retrieved the two extra pounds of roast pork, sliced, spiced and diced into a formidable partner to the crackers.

We’ll eat, laugh, wait for the children to reappear from their trip to Mickey Dee’s and it will be summer in our hearts. The chimenea is lit, the game is on, the guys are watching while the women avoid the game and we’re a community once more.