Oh, Grate!

(Date of occurrence: May 8, 2007)

Sunday, early evening, I pranced in Richard's shadow across the path and over to the R's. My slippered feet leapt at the occasion to follow him. We let ourselves in the back door as Rich immediately began to give aid to O, her video for physics in a wee bit of peril. As I've mentioned hundreds of times before, in a half-dozen journals (and therefore dozens upon dozens of entries) I am just so grateful for our friends across the way. My Second Family; My younger sisters, E & O, whose contact I crave on a daily (if not hourly) basis; For D, the boy I will one day marry, because the ever-clever, (ever-growing-beautiful-by-the-day) N will somehow find a way to bridge the gap between our ages and D and I will live happily ever after in some glorious kingdom somewhere time doesn't exist...with all the basketballs in the world.

I sat and watched Rich at work, O in frantics, S (Mum) preparing dinner in the kitchen. Dr. S, D Man and N were just outside playing their typical pre-supper/appetizer game of "Around the World." E emerged from the basement, hot water bottle snug against her chest, and sat down at the island. Craving some conversing, I walked into the kitchen and began to talk with E and S (Mum), about nothing I am sure. After a few minuets worth of musings, S (Mum) slid a block of cheese across the white tiles. "I nominate you to grate cheese." Doc R, now fresh off the court, heard Mum's petition, came up to the island and gripped the edge. He squared his shoulders and, in fine British form, repeated aloud, "I nominate you to great cheese" pausing after "great" and "cheese" for dramatic effect. He went on, "Some are born great. Others have grating thrust upon them." N recognized his 12th Night illusion and finished the speech in tandem. S (Mum) gave him one of her priceless giggles and the rest of us chimed in with our chortles.

Such a silly Sunday Snippet of a moment, really (and to any outside reader, probably utter nonsense) but it's just another reason why I couldn't imagine life without them...without the late-night comings and goings between our two houses, without the open-door/open-fridge policy, without E's white Acura along the parking strip, signaling her work-hour release, and without N's ponytails bouncing as she strides up the street to The S's. And then there's the D Man. That nose. His jump-shot. The soccer cleats and the sports stats, spouted off as if life itself depended on where John Beck landed after the NFL draft.

As always, R & O pulled each other through in the end. The result: two masterfully produced, directed and filmed physics presentations that Newton himself would have been keen on.

* * *

Who would have thought that the move from Sherman Ave to 1920 would have changed the course of our lives so? It can all be summed up in one word: home. (Christmas, just for the record, E and O, is going to be...well, not quite Christmas. I don't like to think about it, but am so very excited for you! Where do I contribute to the NZ fund?)

When I got back from my 10-day NYC/MI trip a few weeks ago, Dad picked me up from the airport. We chatted in the car - he mostly listened as I spouted off a day-to-day summary of who and what and where, documenting my adventures in one of his favorite cities. We pulled into the driveway, unloaded my luggage, and just as he was off to choir, I hustled over to the R's. I had yet to set foot in my own house, having dropped my bags in the hallway and dashed. As I turned their door handle to let myself in, my Dad looked over at me, surprisingly. I shrugged my shoulders, in a "Yeah. So?" fashion then uttered, "Well, Mom's not home..." He just smiled and got in the car. Like I said, I couldn't imagine life without them!