Turning of the page

I've often lauded our small neighborhood for its charm, friendliness and proximity to a bunch of fun and necessary things. I have a love-hate relationship with the trees which are great until they dump their spent leaves knee-deep in the yard if I don't keep up with them.

We also have a great and low-key neighborhood association, whose twin focus on snow removal and fun activities, makes it the best neighborhood association in the city, if not the world.

Lat Thursday night, for example, they brought The Chauffeurs, an instrumental, jazz-funk band, and food trucks to our tiny park. The Captain and I used to be regulars at these monthly summer events, but softball and other things crowded it out. This week, though, we took a bottle of wine, a couple chairs and a credit card and settled in.

What struck me most was how many kids were there. Tall kids. Short kids. Kids who climbed on rocks. They were everywhere, and I realized that I'm not one of those parents anymore who brings their kid and lets them loose to dig in the sand, run up the slide and just run rampant.

It was kind of sad. Ali always had a good time when we went to the park - concerts or not - but she's approaching the age of the parents who were there. And me, well, I'm way on the other side of that. So far that I was using a cup celebrating my birth year - a gift from a great friend on the occasion of my 60th.

Sixty. It sneaks up on you, man. And unless I sit too long or walk too far - which sometimes includes up and down the basement stairs - I don't feel like I was born before Saturday Night debuted. I will point out that the Beatles and the Rolling Stones waited until the year of my birth to cross the pond. and the Civil Rights Act was passed that year, too. So 1964 was a good year for a lot of good things.

But it seems like just yesterday that I was moving to Indianapolis, leaving newspapers and going to the dark side of PR where I would meet a whole new group of friend who would become family. Speaking of, I can't say a lot about what happened during my girls' trip to French Lick because what happens in French Lick stays in French Lick, but wow: What a great time with great people. 

Between the resort and the park we got hang out at Victory Field with the Burlingames, Ed Kaufman and a bunch of other  Ronald McDonald House volunteers, where we were gifted with a cameo of Clay Miller.

We also got to have another visit with the Lees and their pets. I think Tofu is starting to like me. The first time I posted of photo of the Jeff and the cat, Ali immediately was outraged and thought we had added to the family. I'm kind of thinking about it. I mean, how many years do we really have left?

This weekend, Jeff and I spent six hours or so driving with the top down across a big portion of central Indiana. It was a glorious day. We went fast (mostly) and got a little sun kissed. Such fun.

Today, though, I'm feeling a little off. I always feel guilty when I'm not puking-level sick but have no energy and nausea is flirting with me. I'm trying to take it easy and not do much. It's a good day for that: gray and threatening to rain.

Hope your week is off to a good start. Even with the physical and weather issue, I'm happy to be here. Onward!