It has beautifully colored houses of many shades…blues, greens, browns, red, orange, yellow…and then there is ours, which is… butter? cream? I don’t know. It’s plain, but that’s okay, because we can see all the others.


We have neighbors up and down the streets who say “hi,” who walk their dogs while smiling, who are nice to our girls, who give away bikes and herbs. But more, most importantly… we have neighbors who have become part of our lives.


Their kids play with our kids.
Their dogs play with our dogs.
They help with bus stop emergencies, couch delivery emergencies, pool pass emergencies, and homework.
They let us hold their babies!
They offer help when they see “we’ve” locked the keys in the van again.
They dawdle with us outside to talk in the backyard and in the front yard.
They smile politely when “we’re” letting our 5 year old “drive” home from the bus stop.
They come to our stuff and invite us to their stuff.
They know our names.
They let us inside.

The struggle of home and roots continues for me, because my perspective has shifted so much from moving and losing stability. But this “haven” in which we’ve lived since June 2012 feels homey and comfortable, looks beautiful, and has embraced us and our girls. So I will exhale, sitting in the rocking chair on my front porch, enjoy the rainbow and the waves, and settle in.