Summer of Neighbors

Bill Santos of Columbia Compass suggests using social media to let the community know about how you are celebrating this summer, by using the hashtag #summerofneighbors. He gives some examples; I'll share a few here:

Girls night out and dancing under the people tree - #summerofneighbors

Monday movie night at #lakekittamaquandi. Mr. B is awesome #summerofneighbors

Impromptu house party last night, I <3 living in #Longfellow #summerofneighbors

I am intrigued by this idea. I can't wait to see how it unfolds. But when I woke up this morning, I realized that I have a problem. My tweets would invariably look like this:

Family Game night with take-out from Maiwand. #summerofneighbors

Cooking up a storm with A. after picking up CSA share. #summerofneighbors

Finally meeting up with the ice cream truck at Hopewell Pool. #summerofneighbors

Notice anything? A complete lack of neighbors. I spend almost 100 percent of my social time with my immediate family. I'm happy about that. I love my family. But somehow I don't think that spending the summer encased in the familial bubble was what Mr. Santos had in mind.

So, I have a challenge. Put a little more neighbor into my Summer. I'm really good at being shy and a homebody. Plus, I tend to withdraw into a shell during times of high heat and humidity. But the journey of a thousand miles begins...well, with a walk to Walgreen's. (Now, that's another story altogether.)

I'm determined to give it a shot because I am even more interested in what happens after the #summerofneighbors. Aren't you?

hocoblogs@@@

Comments

Teacher Gifts

Today is the last day of school before the Winter Break. It’s a good time to remember the far-reaching nature of our public school system. You may not have children. You may have sent your children to independent schools. It matters not. You will be impacted one way or another. Yesterday I read a long thread on Facebook about several waves of illness in the schools right now. There’s influenza A and norovirus, I believe. And of course there’s COVID. Apparently in some individual schools the rate of illness is high enough for school admin to notify parents. When I was little the acceptable holiday gift for a teacher was one of those lovely floral handkerchief squares. (I don’t know what it was for male teachers. They were rare in my elementary years.) These days the range of teacher gifts is wider and I have fond memories of Target gift cards which I have written about before. I think it’s safe to say that giving one’s teacher Influenza, norovirus, or COVID is not the ideal holiday...

They Can Wait

This is not a typical Saturday post. That’s because, in my community, it’s not a typical Saturday. Oakland Mills High School, after years of deferred repair, needs massive renovation. It’s pretty simple: when you don’t fix a problem it gets bigger. The school system itself said the the OMHS school building was "no longer conducive to learning" back in 2018. 2018 . But Thursday the Boad of Education voted to push it out of the lineup of important projects which will be given the go-ahead to proceed soonest. In my opinion it’s a terrible decision and sets a dangerous precedent. To explain, here’s the advocacy letter I sent in support of Oakland Mills High School. I was rather proud of it. I am writing to ask you to proceed with needed renovation at Oakland Mills High School in the most timely and comprehensive manner humanly possible. I have read the letter sent to you by the Oakland Mills Community Association and I am in complete agreement. You are extremel...

Columbia Chance Connection

Last night, as my husband and I were about to sit down to dinner, our front door swung open and a cheery voice announced, “I’m ba—ack!” We weren’t expecting anyone. Clearly the only people who’d walk right in to our house would be one of our offspring. I had my reading glasses on so I wasn’t seeing too clearly. It seemed too tall for our youngest, but we knew our eldest was at work. I took off my glasses to see a friendly but confused face scanning our living room. When her gaze landed on us we all had a sudden realization. We didn’t know eachother. “Oh I’m so sorry! I’m in the wrong house! My daughter just moved in and she needed hooks for the kitchen so I ran out to get them.” She waved the package. “All these houses look the same and I don’t know the neighborhood yet. I thought this was my daughter’s house.” We were all getting a bit giggly. “That’s okay. For a quick second we thought you were our daughter,” said my husband. I told her our names and said she should defin...

Village Green/Town²

Search This Blog