Pickle breath

I love living in Michigan.
I can't think of any other place that reminds you of your breath so often.
Sometimes by air so cold and harsh that it takes your breath away.
Other times, like today, the air is so hot and thick and muggy that it hits the back of your throat and stays there.
Living 0.3 miles from the pickle factory makes these days even more fun. Not only do you have a wad of hot, sticky air caught in your throat, it also reeks of pickles.
Yum.

You can call me Huck Finn

Keith and I got home from the beach last night around 8pm. It was the perfect beach day, although we only really spent the evening there. Good waves, warm water (I went all the way in), enough breeze to cool your skin, but not so much that you eat sand the whole time. All in all, a great trip to the water on a beautiful evening.

I wasn't quite ready to go inside when we got home. So I putzed. I watered all the plants. then I started pulling weeds. Pulling weeds is the perfect chore for me. It's all about instant gratification. You get dirty enough to feel like you did something. And the pile when you're done is always impressive.

Keith got in on the action, too. We weeded rock beds, side yards, wood chip piles, and finally the parkway. Our parkway is about 75% weeds and 25% grass. We knew we'd be out there for a while. We were only there a short bit when the kids found us. Freddy & Sammy, our "regulars" came with two of their friends. The friends were okay with stopping by, but they didn't really want to hang out there. They kept trying to get Sammy and Freddy to come play. You probably think F & S were playing with Dodger. Nope. They were pulling weeds. It even turned into a competition - my root's longer than yours! So?! I pulled more weeds than you!

They were out there long enough having enough fun that the friends even came back and entertained the dog. Couple that with two lengthy conversations with adult neighbors and I'll tell you I feel at home.

We're In

The move this weekend went well. We had oodles of macho help and stayed ahead of schedule most of the day (that just gives me warm fuzzy feelings all over).

Our neighborhood is a playground. There are kids playing everywhere - I love it, but if I'm perfectly honest, it incites a middle-school anxiety of whether or not I'll be cool enough to be "in." Our closest neighbors, Cody & Emma, are in 4th & 2nd grade. My mom set the table nicely with them on Saturday, telling Cody "you'll like Keith - he's a big kid."

So on Sunday, Keith and I officially met the duo and their dad. They played in our yard for almost 2 hours. I shoved fudge pops down their throats and kept telling them how cool I thought they were. I think it worked - they seemed to like us. The assumption was confirmed on Monday.

Keith was playing basketball with Troy, Faith & Dad H. - I was out front. A kid I didn't recognize rode his bike past the house twice, peering down the drive. The third time I swallowed the middle-school anxiety and called out to him.

Me: Hey, dude!
Him: Are you the new neighbor?
Me: Sure are! You played on that hoop before?
Him: Yep - my friend lived here.
Me: Want to join my husband and his dad? You can play with them.
Him: Sure!

An hour later, Sam was joined by three more of his friends, in our yard.

Keith: My name's Keith.
Kid 2: I know.
Kid 3: Cody told us about you. Said you were cool.

We're In!!!
I think I'll keep fudge pops in the freezer all summer. Either that or learn how to make a basket.