An American Town.

I’ve said this before, yes, but tonight it wells up inside and spills out. I love where we live. This is the place of my dreams. A small town, but full of ex-urban people. In the suburbs, but not really suburbia. Here in this little spot of the universe lies a village of families who call themselves neighbors and friends and are growing into a pseudo-family more and more each day.

It’s the end of summer here, and to celebrate, we had a town campout.

 

The Great Erie Outdoor Adventure. It was held on the big field at our community center and it burst open with kids and hot dogs and veggie burgers and watermelon. We watched as the little ones figured out how to make Arnold Palmers and sneak a few more slices of cantaloup from the catering crew as we passed babies and toddlers around to arms stretched out and waiting.

 

 

And we kicked off our shoes to run around and throw the football in that cool grass, but one of us got caught by her husband (dude. check out my yoga toes!!).

 

 

That probably should NOT be attempted by amateurs. But if it is, it should definitely be refereed by your five-year-old.

 

 

But try not to step on him.

Speaking of stepping, we couldn’t walk five feet without seeing familiar faces; from our neighbors,

 

 

To the amazing people from the community center where I teach yoga. Like Liz and Michelle,

 

 

Matt and Brandy (Brandy, by the way, was just recognized this past week for two awards in the Parks and Rec industry…she rocks),

 

 

And Ed with the most incredible mustachio around town.

 

 

You getting the feel for this little slice of Heaven, yet?

And oh, I have to tell you, it had not been a great day at the Pantier house up until this event. But all of that foul mood and stress-from-overtired-boys was wiped away as we spent time just hanging out, watching our kids be their joy-filled selves.

 

 

There’s nothing that recharges me more than listening to their giggles and squeals and whispers and running feet blaze by.

Well, perhaps this does. These boys look about as fierce as a gaggle of bridesmaids all bunched up and ready to catch the bouquet. Except it was a football.

 

 

And then the Dads’ reactions are pretty much summed up in this one.

 

 

And what else was there? Some lovin’. Lots of lovin’.

 

 

And then this Dad posed like he was a baseball card.

 

 

We had a remembrance for those lives lost on 9/11 and honored them with a small ceremony of song, readings, and silence.

 

 

And then we tried for a group picture.

 

 

They were totally into it.

 

 

They couldn’t wait to have to sit still and smile like non-minions.

 

 

And then I found my saving graces. A few little stolen grins and giggles to start the movie portion of the evening off on the right foot.

 

 

And exhausted now, I fall into bed at home with a sleeping Ewan down the hall while Hank and Holden are snug in a tent about a mile down the road. If I look out our window, I can see those tents, mounded like small hills with the Rocky Mountains jutting up behind them.

Oh boy. All is right in our world. All is very, very right.

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