For a year now, we’ve been hosting a weekly gathering for the kiddos in our neighborhood. Sometimes, it’s been Krispie Kreme donuts and orange juice in the morning around a fire in the backyard. Other times it’s been marshmallows and hot chocolate after dinner. It’s always been a rather informal, the backgate-is-always-open neighborly event and it’s always been in the backyard.
Last fall, I got a wild hair and decided that it would be awesome to buy a couple of picnic tables and put them under the big oak tree in the front yard. I’m a dreamer and as I began to envision picnic tables in the front yard, I also began to envision twinkling lights hanging from the trees and candlelight dinners with our neighbors and Saturday afternoon picnics and Sunday afternoon homemade ice cream parties. I also began to have dreams of a huge pergola and a brick fireplace, but my husband has yet to configure a way to hang some twinkling lights thirty feet above the tables, so the verdict is still out on the other.
But more than all of that, I began to imagine how our neighborhood would change if we began to eat together.