Dear Family and Friends,
As deep dusk settles over my small town, I want to dance in the street. Night strands of sapphire over the forest of trees overhead. The moon is determined to be full again this week and the sounds of day still swagger down the streets.

When Jim Pfitzer, friend and storyteller, was here he wrote on my wall..."My dear Miss Maggie, you have a bit of Mayberry here in your town." Actually he stretched it all across my welcome wall including a winking eye. He was right. My neighborhood is a wonderful mingling of incomes and jobs and family units. We aren't suburb or lake or country...we are town, small town. I, of course, boast the single girl syndrome which most nieghbors find curious and offer advice that I might need to know....just today the next door neighbor brought samples of siding over to me. (Is this a hint that my house is in desperate need of a paint job?) Soon, most of the neighborhood had joined us which differing opinions. From deck paint to gutter cleaning to a plugged drain in the basement (I would much prefer to buy antique quilts and candles) I am advised how to spend my money and repair this old house.

I sit out on the stoop with a bottle of Blue Moon beer and let the neighborhood come to me. There is a new family next door with four boys...they are always willing to pick up grass or leaves or lock up the gate on my fence...the three girls across the street want to play dress up in my Annie's Attic with my assortment of good will clothing and boas. Joe, behind me, sports his cowboy hat on his daily walks. I just sit and let the town roll out in front of me. I watch darkness deepen, grab a sweater and still wait out the light of another day. Folks with bikes and strollers and dogs march by with a wave or a holler. Some older couples drive cautiously up and down the street as their walking days are over, but they don't want to give up a great evening for a stroll.

I hear the last sound of the bounce of a basketball on the court a couple of blocks away....the kattycorner neighbor has a small fire in the backyard and company for a cookout...the scent of steak and lemon pepper drifts over to my front stoop.

We are an eclectic group of neighbor...different political and religious beliefs...some were helmets when biking...other speed across in barefoot. We are family. We cook for each other...tell stories...and accept each as we are.

Darkness has made it's full appearance. Lights pop up as bright squares of yellow butter inside dark houses. The almost full moon dangles upon us.

I think I'll go dance in the street.
Lou Ann

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