|You can see our neighbors standing outside in their jammies! Please ignore the weedy unmowed lawn and the Christmas lights on our house that my husband has been asked to take down a dozen or so times and yet has continually weaseled out of the task.|
The weekend began like most, with mama up at 6:30 am enjoying a cup of coffee while papa and baby tucked a few more Z's into their coat pockets. A quiet whoosh...whoosh was heard from somewhere outside, but I brushed it off as someone's far-in-the-distance lawn mowing at the crack of dawn (because that is what all considerate neighbors do). Then, my husband rushes out of the bedroom from a dead sleep, yelling at me to Quickly! Quickly! Look outside! No time to put put shoes on!
There it was, a giant hot air balloon hovering just above our across-the-street neighbor's house, grazing their treetops. The residents of that home huddled in their pajamas, eyes upward, the kids with half-eaten Eggo waffles in their hands. And, as it appeared, they were having a little good morning chat with the riders of the hot air balloon.
What happened next was the sort of thing you dream about when you're searching for a place to live or buying a home in a neighborhood you're not familiar with (as we did). The front doors of other surrounding homes flew open, expelling pajama-clad sleepy heads with hot cups of coffee in their hands, looking up in the sky and wondering, what the eff is going on?! An impromptu pajama party in the street, marveling upward at a giant hot air balloon. You never think it's something as unusual as a hot air balloon that will bring your community together. But for us, it was. It was a wonderful way to start the weekend, feeling more at home in that neighborhood than I have ever felt before.
Other highlights from the weekend:
A walk with our neighbors around the block on a whim, and happening upon an open house event showing a home for sale on our street (a beautiful home that, quite frankly, made my husband, our walking buddies, and I supremely jealous).
A visit from our beautiful 3 year old niece, who made a big mess in Elliott's room with all of his toys.
Going to the antique store, a favorite pastime of ours. Elliott sat on my hip, chewed on a teether, and quietly looked at all the wonderful things the shop had to offer.
Seeing our dog Banjo throw up in my husband's lap. Seriously. I died. The best moment of the weekend, hands down.
Hope your weekend was just as nice, friends.