Rich in Daughters

Laura (left end) was barely five here. Don't know what made me think of this pic.

How are my neighbors? They're doing good!

And here Matt would want to emend, "Superman does good. The neighbors are doing well."

Tonight we walked up the street to a graduation party for a K(C)athy's oldest daughter. Actually, the other K(C)athy moved out a few weeks ago, after a long, long divorce-and-house-selling process. She's gone to a better place. (Not heaven, but a nice townhouse in the one neighborhood that has indoor tennis courts. We're glad for her and we still see her.)

So one K(C)athy remains, and she has six children. Four of them are beautiful girls. I mean, yes all children are beautiful in their own way, of course, but her girls are really beautiful, and nice people too. They range from 18 to 5. And she has two bonus boys. When I first moved here, her youngest was a baby, and I thought, "Six kids!?! Does she know what is causing that to happen?" But now that her youngest is in school, her family plan is starting to look kind of smart. They are your basic big happy family. There is always something going on and somebody to help with it. Especially smart to have all those girls. So many girls! Looking at her tonight, the words came to my mind, "That woman is rich in daughters."

Normal Neighbor was there, and we were remarking that in no time, our girls would be finishing high school. Then she cried and cried through the slide show of the graduate, while I started planning what song I want to use in ours. Not like PLANNING planning, just idly musing, you know.

So, the neighbors:

K(C)athy is sending her grown daughter to college.

Normal Neighbor is cancer free and just got a new chocolate lab puppy.

Frenemy Neighbor has dropped off my radar completely. We never see each other except to wave from our cars, and our girls no longer seek each other out. And I unfriended her on fb after she posted a Glenn Beck screed about how the Great Depression really wasn't that bad.

The older couple on the corner opposite us who didn't believe in global warming, they moved this weekend. To Arizona. Their replacements are already installed in the house but I haven't met them yet.

Conspiracy Guy remains as ever. His daughters still while away a lot of time at my house. The other day, I took Hank to the neighborhood pool party, and they begged begged begged him to take them as well. So he did, then sat in a corner with earbuds in his ears, not in good sight of the pool, while they swam and played. I guess he figured the lifeguard and I were on top of the situation.

My Gravelly-Voiced Tennis Friend broke two ribs this weekend when she got run over by a jet ski. I think those things are dangerous. She could have been killed. And I'm thinking that she won't be playing Summer Mixed Doubles. She told me that it hurts like a mother.

Pretty Neighbor is doing fine and has been navigating the same end-of-school craziness that I have. We are both a little forlorn at the lull in tennis right now, but there is a new rec center near us and we're thinking of trying a pilates class there tomorrow.

Oh, OH, remember when I introduced you to my neighbor who keeps an opossum as her beloved pet? Miss Terry, BLESS HER HEART. Anyway, she was at K(C)athy's party and at one point she suggested to our hostess that she go home and fetch the possum, Louise, and bring Louise to the party. That suggestion made K(C)athy awesomely uncomfortable, as her revulsion at the very thought of it warred with her Southern upbringing, and her inclination to try to please her guests, all her guests, howe'er crazy they may be. She said, weakly, "Um, maybe if you hold her and don't put her down anywhere?"

(Here let me note that this party was BYOB, as the graduate's grandparents were providing all the refreshments and they are strict teetotaler Baptists. And in the middle of this scene of Potential Possum Visitation Discussion, I felt that maybe the one bottle of pinot noir I'd brought wouldn't see me through an Actual Possum Appearance.)

And Miss Terry then said she needed someone to drive her up the block, wait while she fetched Louise, and then drive her back. And K(C)athy was like, "Well, I don't know if that will happen..." Then she slowly walked away, looking transfixed as though something very important elsewhere required her attention. So Miss Terry went home and there was no Louise.

So that happened, and we had some cake and little chocolate eclairs, and then we walked over to see Normal Neighbor's puppy, with his baggy puppy skin and huge paws, and then we came home. Thought you might want to know what the nabes are up to. Where did I start this post? Something about daughters.

'Night!
xo