Every now & again I have an experience that makes me think of a nostalgic Ray Bradbury novel. Not the kind with rocketships and martians, but the kind where he waxes with poetic nostalgia about his idyllic, smalltown childhood
Here’s Susanna and Jeanna and Chris at the game last night. Susanna was doing the cheerleader thing! Yep, she’s joined the cheer squad…and even wants to help out with Precious Pearls, a group that teaches virtue to little girls like her little sister, Claire.
The game was wonderful. Yes, we lost 12-50. But for me, the Highlands itself was the reason the night was a success. Parents were hanging out in the bleachers while watching the game, coming up and introducing themselves and finding common ground with my wife and I. Teens were in the small field behind the announcement booth, chatting and going back & forth between the game and their own worlds. Little kids were running up and down the hills, both they and their parents heedless of the kinds of fears to many have in larger cities.
Middle schoolers were on another hill, playing thier own fb game in anticiation of the day they could themselves play under lights as the big kids were doing, the night was warm, redolent with the smell of grilled hamburgers and fresh popcorn, and my daughter was the most beautiful of all the cheerleaders on the field.
That was Friday. Saturday, I ran a bunch of errands, and we tried out the fire pit. It worked great, and we made SMores!
Yeah, I had a good night.