Cheerful Sunday

London Games

It makes me very cheerful that The Olympics are in Great Britain this year.  It makes it all so exciting.  The best part, however, is that they are in London and we are in Manchester.  We get all the thrill of being proud to be the host nation without the inconvenience and crowds!

We watched the opening ceremony (well, I made it halfway through the parade of nations), but haven't watched that much else so far.

Are you watching the Olympics?

Grandparents are awesome.

There's another reason I was MIA last week.  My parents were in town to meet Linus and we were just soaking it all up.  They arrived 16 days after Linus was born and, though not being here when he was born was intentional, I think the wait to meet their first grandchild nearly killed them.  You see, my parents planned their trip based on the fact that I was due on March 7th and on the idea that it was important for Ross, Linus and I to have time to ourselves to bond as a family unit before they descended on us.  This was all well and good in theory, but then when Linus actually arrived on the 1st, I know that the 17th seemed a mighty long way away!

Since before I was even pregnant, I was so excited for my parents to become grandparents.  I was lucky enough to grow up with some amazing grandparents who made me feel loved and special all the time.  I have a very special relationship with them and look forward to Linus having a special grandparent bond too.  It will be hard, given that we live so far apart, but I know we can make it happen!  My mom is so kind and loving that everyone knows she'll be a great grandma.  My dad, unbeknownst to most people, is a total softie who goes ga-ga over babies- so I knew he'd be completely adorable.

My mom was exactly like I imagined she'd be.  She kept herself busy looking after everyone.  She did dishes and laundry for me.  She held Linus and loved on him.  My dad was not like I imagined.  I thought he'd be sweet with the baby.  I was wrong.  He was OBSESSED!  He would have held him every second of all 7 days they were here if he could have.  It was beyond adorable.  He played jumping games with Linus.  They took naps together.  He walked Linus up and down our hall when he was fussy.  At one point, I saw a very strange sight.  My mom and dad were sitting on the couch together.  Mom was holding Linus and Dad was sitting next to them with his hands over Linus' ears.  On noticing my befuddled look, Mom explained that Dad had been concerned that Linus' ears were cold.  Yep- he was acting as a human earmuff.

And now, some pictures from our week together.

Grandpa waiting (impatiently) for Linus to wake up.

Grandpa's first time holding Linus

Grandma gets her turn.

Grandpa/Grandson Double nap

Me and My Son

We went on an adventure one day.  We took the tram a few stops south to Heaton Park (the largest municipal park in Europe!) to go for a walk.  It's a huge park and made for a very pleasant walk.  You feel like you're in the middle of the country on a grand estate (which it once was) even though it's in the middle of a busy area of north Manchester.

Waiting for the tram

A close-up

 There are fields containing free-roaming livestock that help you feel like you are in the country.  The animals have plenty of room to roam, but are fenced in. The park was full of people out for a walk.  There were families, mums with strollers, teens with dogs and elderly couples.  It is such a nice thing to see people out enjoying the weather and grounds.  My mom commented on it as you don't often see that sort of thing in Texas!  People would be driving or at the mall in my home state ;)

A long-haired cow of some sort.

A family feeding the donkeys

By the boating lake, which is home to geese, ducks, & swans

 On Friday, we went into town to officially register Linus.  Here in the UK, you have 6 weeks after the baby is born to register them.  That's when you go to a council office and meet with a registrar who takes all the pertinent info and issues your child's birth certificate.  We joked that it wasn't too late to change Linus' name.

Grandpa can't stay away at a morning snack break.

After a brief meeting with the registrar, we had two versions of Linus' birth certificate- the free short one and the £3.50 long version (which you need to apply for a passport).  It just so happened that Manchester had a special visitor that day.  The Queen and Prince Phillip were visiting Manchester Town Hall so we stopped by to see what was going on.

Just after getting the Birth Certificate in front of Manchester Town Hall

There were anti-royalist protesters, a police marching band, and vendors hawking souvenirs.  It was a fun atmosphere and not too crowded.  The VIPs were in having lunch, so we didn't get to see them, but it will be a fun story to tell Linus when he's older... that the Queen came to town to celebrate his naming ;)

Checking out the festivities

Plenty of police on-hand, 

the people in the background in front of the statue were anti-royalist protestors

After deciding we weren't going to get to see the Queen and her hubby, we went and got some lunch of our own.  A waiter was cooing over the baby and asked his name.  When I said "Linus" he made a face that indicated he didn't really approve and then asked if it was a girl's name.  Um, no... no it's not.

a family portrait

the snuggly version

So those are some of our adventures with Linus' grandparents.  They were sad to leave at the end of the week, but hopefully we'll get to visit them before too long!

Did you have a special relationship with your grandparents?
Has royalty ever made a visit to mark an important occasion in your life?

The Wall

You guys... I've finally hit the wall of my pregnancy.  You know that wall where all of a sudden the simplest things exhaust me.  Where I'm feeling BIG.  Where I'm frustrated by my lack of physical stamina.

37 weeks, 3 days

One Wednesday we went to Ikea.  Finally!  I'd been waiting and waiting.  We got a bookcase for our lounge (pictured above) and the chest of drawers for the nursery.  By the time we left, I was practically hobbling and certainly huffin' and puffin'.  

On Thursday, I got up and met two new friends that I met through the birth classes.  We walked around nearby Heaton Park (Europe's largest municipal park) which was really cool.  It was great walking weather and there were fields and some animals.  There was good conversation and then a stop for refreshment.  We each had a slice of tasty carrot cake.  I was jokingly accused of being posh because I got a plastic fork to eat mine with, rather than just using my hands.  The park seems like a great place to go walking with kids (especially given the insane number of mums with prams and toddlers that we saw) and is only 2 tram stops away from us.

After the walk, I was tired, but determined to construct the bookcase.  And it damn near killed me.  I never thought putting together a simple Billy Bookcase would do me in, but it nearly did.  It was so frustrating because it was the first time I've truly felt physically hampered by my pregnancy.  Not that I can really complain, given that I made it to 37.5 weeks before hitting this wall.  I attributed it to the walk plus the bookcase being too much for me.

But then today, we did a little shopping and by the time we got home I was knackered!  I guess it's just hit that point for me and I should cut myself a little slack and succumb to it.  Thankfully, I am still happy to be pregnant.  I've heard other women talking about hitting a secondary wall of "Dear God, just get the baby out! I'm so over being knocked up."  I'm curious about whether I'll get to that one or if the baby will come before I hit it.

When did you hit "the wall"?

Did you ever hit the second wall?

Did you notice that part where I slipped it in a sly and subtle and cool about my new friends (FRIENDS! TWO!)?

Cheerful Sunday

A walk through our very quiet and deserted neighbourhood in the crisp snow was surprisingly cheerful!

The Unborn... they grow up so fast...

So I've mentioned before my penchant for overly-dramatic emotional reactions for fun and profit husband-confusing.  I once possibly emotionally scarred a concession stand employee at a movie theatre by tearfully demanding to know if his question of "Diet or regular?" was an attempt to call me fat.  I pre-enacted a "drunken" bridesmaid speech that devolved into sobbing declarations that I would die alone in a house full of cats.  My shenanigans are funny to me.  And to the people that call me their friend.  And mostly to my husband, except for when I do too good a job and he worries that I might be serious- at which point I carry on for a few more nerve-wrenching seconds before declaring victory.  Victory!  Pass the Oscar, baby.  The best part about Ross is that usually he will play along.  We end up doing "bits" that make us laugh and devolve into the farthest reaches of silliness.  Sometimes we are able to reach glorious levels of comedy (of a dark nature) that catches the attention and WTF-ness of passers-by who happen to overhear us.

I've always reserved the right, as a woman, to ooh and aah over adorable baby clothing and accessories.  Before Ross and I even began trying, I would point out teensy things in windows and force him to agree with me that they were indeed "soooo cute".  One day (we might have already pulled the goalie, but possibly not) I pointed out something particularly squeee-worthy.  Ross just looked at it and said "I don't think it's the right size".  Because it is one of his bits to respond to my babywearcrazies by pointing out that said item would not fit me, I went on about how it was the cutest little outfit evar.  He said "We could go in and see if it comes in 'non-existant'".  I looked at him with hurt in my eyes and exclaimed that I didn't know how he could be so heartless.  Just because our baby was imaginary was no reason to claim she didn't exist!

**and scene**

Just the other day, the Manchester Christmas Market officially opened.  You guys know how we feel about the macaroons available at the Market, so we headed down to get our first snowballs of coconutty yum of the season.  I wondered allowed if the baby would like them- meaning if he'd do any dancing in my belly after I'd eaten them.  Ross replied that, "Uh, of course he will.  He's our son.  And he's awesome.  And why wouldn't he like THE BEST MACAROONS IN THE WORLD?!"  As we walked around I started to envision next year.  I thought about how we would bring our son with us and show him all the sights.  We would feel the cold fresh air on our cheeks and explore all the little booths full of delightful treasures.  I got really excited about all the fun things we could show our son.

The heart of the markets, in front of Manchester Town Hall

Ross pointed out that next year we could let him try a macaroon of his own.  My first thought was "NO!  He'll be too young for solid food".  Then I realized that at the end of November next year, our little baby will be almost 9 months old.  That's definitely old enough for bites of solid food.  This realization hit me like a ton of bricks.  I literally stopped in my tracks and cried out, "Why are you trying to make my baby grow up so fast!"

I think I was kidding.  You know... like those other times.  (But only sort of.)


Do you ever get freaked out by thinking ahead an realizing how fast time will fly?
Have you ever emotionally scarred a minimum wage service employee?
Does your significant other play along with your insanities?

Weee-Oooo Weee-Oooo

Today's post isn't directly about the riots.
You may have noticed that I haven't addressed them on this blog.
Lots of other people are talking about them and, in real life, I'm certainly talking and thinking about them.  I'll just say the following.

Are the riots disgusting and sad?  Yes
Is it senseless violence?  Yes
Are there sociological reasons that are at the root of all this?  Yes

So back to the real point of the post.
The riots have helped point out yet another difference between my country of origin and my adopted home.  On Tuesday night, the buzz was that violence was expected to spread to Manchester.  Ross and I judiciously avoided city centre (British for downtown) from early afternoon.  We tucked up safely at home and then posted to Facebook to let people know we were safe.  Then we called my grandparents (who don't have the internet) to reassure them that we were out of harm's way.

As we sat on the couch were heard a long wail from what must have been several sirens.  The sound cut through the air.  Ross tensed and said, "That sounds really bad."  I agreed.

But it got me thinking.  That amount of siren noise would barely have been worth noting in Dallas.  I'm certainly not saying that Dallas is crime-ridden.  To the contrary, I felt very safe living there.  But there must be some cultural difference in use of sirens.  I'm pretty sure I can count on both hands the number of times I've heard sirens since moving to Manchester.  I've lived here a year and a half.  I'm pretty sure I heard sirens on at least a weekly basis in Dallas.

I don't know if it's because there aren't freeways running through the city here, or because they use cameras to catch most traffic violations (like speeding and running lights), or some other reason.  It's sort of nice.  The siren sound means so much more when it's more rare.  It makes life seem safer during the times when you don't hear it.

Wouldn't it be nice if we never had to hear sirens at all?

Those are my thoughts, and now here are some pictures.
On Wednesday, we went into town to run errands and saw some of the aftermath.  It didn't look too terrible. We saw boarded up windows, like this high end jean shop (Diesel).  Every single window had been smashed.

We also saw this little pastry shop, which was open for business despite it's boarded windows.

Thankfully, Manchester didn't experience much trouble on the next night.  Mostly due to this:

The street where our warehouse is.

It was a very rainy and unseasonably cold day- one of the best crime deterrents there is.  When we went into town today we did see a few more boarded windows, but we weren't sure if they were new damage or not.

Stay safe.

Oriented to temperature

Back when I worked in mental health, one of the first things used to assess patients who came in for evaluation was a quick examination of their physical appearance.

I would make note of how the person presented themselves in my write up of the evaluation.  Not like a fashion critique.  Like how well groomed they were and if their clothing was appropriate to the season.  It was worth noting if someone was bundled in a sweater, coat, and scarf in the heat of Dallas summer.  Or in a flimsy t-shirt when it was sleeting out.  To be fair,we didn't get people this severe in very often.

But as I look around Manchester town centre, I wonder if maybe some of these people would benefit from a little evaluation.  I'm not talking about obviously, mentally ill people either.

Ross and I often joke that if you took a picture of a variety of people seen in town on any given day and then showed these pictures to a third party and asked them to describe what the weather was like that day from looking at the pictures alone, they'd be fairly stumped.

Now I'm not very good at taking unobtrusive pictures of strangers so I know present you with a selection of photos I found on the internet that are representative of actual outfits I saw this afternoon.

Brrrrr!

Cravat-tastic!

Yes, we actually saw a guy wearing this.  He was also wearing slim cut black trousers.

One of my favourite looks.

Bonus points if the control tops extend beyond the bottom of the shorts.

No man looks good in cropped pants.

Especially if they've got a dropped crotch.

Breezy

Tracksuits

Somebody forgot their pants!

I hope you've got your tickets... to the gun show!

What do you think the temperature/weather was?
(And no cheating with the internet!)

Batman Live

This weekend, Ross and I had free tickets to see a dress rehearsal of a brand new show, scheduled for world premier next week.  Batman Live.

The show is an arena spectacle, so we figured we were in for big, cheesy, fun, frothy action.  We trekked to the MEN Arena and got our seats.  (As a side note, Texas arena food totally kicks British Arena food's butt!)
We figured it was an exciting concept- a family friendly arena version of a well loved comic book character.

MEN Arena

The arena was less than half full because it was a preview, but it was still full enough to have a good crowd feel, essential to a viewing experience for something like this.  We had great seats near the front, but not on the floor.  

Obligatory Meg & Ross self-portrait

The set looked impressive.  There were miniature Gotham City buildings and a very impressive screen across the back that showed all sorts of animation.

Blurry cell phone picture of the set, pre-show

The crowd, a good mix of adults and kid, was primed for a good time.  The two directors came out onto the stage with microphones and welcomed us to this open dress rehearsal.  The explained that, as it was a very technical show, there was a chance that the show would have to be stopped if something went wrong.  They said that the show would resume as quickly as possible.   We were excited!

The show started with an enactment of the death of Bruce Wayne's parents.  Then something happened for about 25 minutes (Lord knows what, neither Ross nor I can remember) before Batman even made an appearance!  That's right.  We timed it.  It took 30 minutes for Batman to take the stage.  He flew in to confront Catwoman mid cat burglary.  

During the fight, we experienced our first stoppage of the show.  Something had gone wrong with the flying rig.  They stopped the show for a few minutes while the sorted it out.  Being the nerd that I am, I would have really enjoyed if someone had come over the microphone and explained what went wrong.  Ah well...

The fight re-started and was much better.  Now, I thought, it's really going to take off.  Wrong.  Man, this show had a whole lotta stuff going on.  There were a whole host of villains (Catwoman, Penguin, The Riddler, The Joker, Harley Quinn, Sandman, and Poison Ivy) and bunch of background acrobats.  The story ended up being a very tenuous narrative about Robin's creation story and a bunch of villains taking over Arkham Asylum.

Now look.  I knew I wasn't going to a theatre performance.  I knew it would be a spectacle.  But for all the spectacular parts, the sum wasn't all that impressive.  There was either too much story or not enough.  I think loosely strung together vignettes with each of the villains would have been better.  A major flaw was that none of the performers seemed to "play out" enough to the crowd.  Especially the villains (with the possible exception of Harley) lacked the pizazz and charisma they should have been packing.  I mean, these are comic book villains.  This is when an actor should go big or go home.  Another fault, ironically pointed out by The Joker (though I don't think it was any sort of meta-commentary) was the lack of humour.  The Joker was referring to Batman himself, but the statement could just as easily have been attributed to the show as a whole.

At intermission, Ross and I found ourselves pondering whether to stay or go.  I made the case that we should stay, just to find out if the show could redeem itself.

The stage at intermission.

Alas, the second half fared about the same.  There were a few large scale numbers, but they weren't really that exciting.  The Batmobile made an appearance and was fairly impressive.  I think the straw that broke the camel's back for us was when Batman told the story of his parent's death to Robin.  The impressive backdrop screen showed an animated version of the event.  It was actually really cool.  Why oh why, did they bother opening the show with the exact same scene (less well-done) in live action at the beginning of the show?!!  It was pretty ridiculous and showed a real lack of writing aplomb.  

Ross and I were shocked at the applause and yells from the audience at the end.  We were even more surprised to see the tweets the show elicited.  Ross came across nothing but positive reviews which sung the praises of the production.  Really? 

In an effort to be constructive, I below outline our suggested changes:

1.  Revamp the story.  Ross and I are available to consult for a fee ;)  

2.  Get in a few comedians to play some of the villains.  Ross suggests Peter Kay for Penguin.

3.  Re-choreograph large fight/production numbers.  A good choreographer should be able to draw the viewer to the important bits of what's going on.  The current effect is a chaotic mess.  There's way to much going on in every corner, leaving the viewer confused and feeling like they don't know where to look.

4.  Consider the tone of the show.  Would it hurt to camp it up a bit in the style of the TV show?  That screen would be great for showing the "Boom!"s "ZOP!"s and other onomatopoeic words.  Maybe add a few musical numbers?  Just sayin'. 

Hopefully, by the time Batman Live comes to a city near you on it's world wide tour, they will have worked out the kinks and revealed the full potential of this show.  

I'm Manchester's resident expert on Dallas

Earlier this week, we got an interesting phone message.

But first, a little background...
At the end of last year, Ross and I were selected to take part in a special day of programming that BBC Radio Manchester was doing.  We did a brief "audition" in the Takeover Taxi and were chosen to do an hour of programming for BBC Radio Manchester, along with a bunch of other people that were also picked.  It was super-fun and we had a great time doing it.  The producer was very friendly and seemed to like us.  We did our recording, it aired on January 3rd and that was that.

Our big break

Back to the present...

Ross came into the bedroom as I was getting ready and played a voice mail for me.  He prefaced it only by saying that there was a very strange message for me.  It was a woman calling from BBC Radio Manchester.  She said she'd gotten my information from the producer we worked with previously.  They were planning to do a piece on the remake of Dallas and wanted to interview me about it.  

The Cast

Just as I was about to call her back, the phone rang and I was saved the trouble.  She asked if I was available to talk to Becky Want at 3PM.  Unfortunately, we already had firm plans from 3 to 5PM.  The woman said she'd check to see if they could do something earlier and call me back.  Just as she was about to hang up, I stopped her.  You see, I had some information that I thought was fairly important for her to know before putting a bunch of effort into setting this all up.  

What was this information?  I let her know that I've never seen an episode of Dallas.  You see, when people here find out that I'm from Dallas they get very excited and almost always reference the show, so I was well prepared for her not to expect this.  I explained that it was a bit before my time.  And that they ran reruns of Dallas here much more extensively than they did in the States.  She awkwardly said ok, and that she'd be in touch.  

Though I knew I could still make for an interesting interview despite never having seen the show in question, I wasn't surprised when I got another message from the woman (very nicely) saying that they were unable to do the interview before 3PM and hopefully they'd talk to me sometime soon.  

Ah well... another shot a my 15 minutes gone :)

Have you ever been asked to comment on something because people assumed you'd have a lot of knowledge on a subject, even though you don't know squat about it?

A Man with a Plan

This weekend was a first (of a sort) in our marriage.

Often times I will inquire of Ross "What's the plan for ______?"  That blank could be any number of things:  tomorrow, dinner, this weekend, etc.
You see I am an agenda maker.
My darling Ross..... is not.

It's taken awhile for us to get used to this fact about each other.  I function much better if I have at least a general plan for the day ahead.  What time do we need to leave?  What tasks do we need to complete?  Do we need to run any errands while were are out?  This helps me collect my thoughts and keeps me from sleeping in until noon.  Ross, on the other hand, will get up at a reasonable time and start doing work.  Yes, there are tasks that need to get done, but he just sort of rolls with it.  He figures out what he feels like working on or what most needs doing and does it.  This works for him.

Neither style is wrong.  In fact, I think they're quite complimentary in many ways.  We end up pushing each other and expanding each other's perspective- a quality that I really value in our marriage.  We're learning to compromise.

Anyway- last Saturday afternoon I asked my husband what the plan for dinner was (usually the easiest of my "plan" queries for him to answer).  He shocked me by stating that he thought we could walk to the grocery store and get food to have a picnic and watch The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Universe.  FYI- I love a floor picnic.  It seriously makes me ridiculously excited.  That's not weird, right?  I think it dates back to my childhood when my mom was awesome at inventing activities for us to do.  Somedays we'd pack a little picnic and carry it out to eat in our front lawn.  Oh the excitement!

Ross then absolutely baffled me.  He didn't stop.  He went on to state that he thought the next morning we could get up and go to the Whitefield Farmer's Market and then go into town for the Manchester Day Parade.  When the man makes a plan, he makes a plan!

So we followed the plan.

We had a picnic!  (You should know that I'm re-experiencing my picnic-related excitement just by telling you about it.  I know... I'm a freak.)

On the left (top to bottom):  Potato Salad, Egg Salad, Prosciutto, Black Olive Hummus

On the right (top to bottom): 2 kinds of bread, pear, apple, grapes, brie, Cheshire, and Double Gloucester cheeses, olives, cucumber and tomato.  And a glass of Apple and Mint juice.  Delish!

The next morning, we got up and walked to the Whitefield Farmer's Market.  Whitefield is technically the town we live in.  It's sort of like a suburb of Manchester.  Ross had noticed a banner up at a nearby park which proclaimed that the Farmer's Market was back.  We were pretty excited to see if there was anything good.  Some tasty fresh fruit and veg, perhaps?  After about a 5 minute walk we were at the park.  There seemed to be people around.  There was a buzz in the air.  Then I looked down into the park and saw this.

Oh look some tents!

We walked a little closer.  

Wait... make that 10 tents.  10.

Yep it was, in Ross' words, "The World's Most Crap Farmer's Market".  Do you think they'll want the award in the form of a certificate, a plaque, a trophy, or a crystal bowl of some kind?  There were 10 measly stands. Two that were perhaps legitimately from a farm.  The highlights were: the black and white photos that the woman basically told me sucked and I'd be stupid to buy them, the "cute" kids costume-outfit thingies, and the pencils made out of sticks that a guy would engrave with your name.  Yeah.  It was lame.  LAME!!  Oh well.

Stay tuned for part 2 where we go to the parade...

Public Works at it's Finest

Since my dad used to be in the Public Works business I have what you might call a "heightened radar" for issues that I know would catch his eye.  Isn't it funny how our parent's peccadilloes get passed on to us?

We have one such issue on the street where our warehouse is.
What is it, you ask?
Well, I'll tell you.

The street has never really been in tip-top shape.  You can see bits of the original cobblestones in many places.

The stretch of street just outside our warehouse.  The famed cobbles of Manchester peeking through.

A couple of weeks ago, three road barriers showed up.  They were set up to make a little triangle around a small pothole in the middle of the road.  At the time it seemed a bit excessive given that it's a fairly small street.

A felled barrier.

People seemed to continue about their business, largely ignoring the barriers.  It didn't take long before they were knocked over and lay flay in the street.  Eventually, someone dragged them to the side since they were just getting run over.

You can just make out the hole at the right of the first white line.

Today, Ross and I crossed the road to go get lunch and noticed the pothole.  Previously, it had really just been a bit of a dip in the road.

My goodness!  As soon as Ross realized how deep the hole was, he called out for me to not stand so close to it.  (For the record, I was a good 10 feet from the hole and in no danger at all- it was cute though).  The pothole is now about 2.5 feet across and about a foot deep!

A close up.

So now our small street, which gets regular traffic from large lorrytrucks (that's a bonus Ameringlish word for ya!) has a massive gaping hole with no warning or imminent work to be done.

This reminds me of a story I read a while back (I looked for it, but couldn't find... sorry) about an English village that could no longer afford to keep repairing their roads.  They opted to scrape off all of the asphalt and fully uncover the cobblestones that are underneath.  This option, not only saved them money on repairs, but ended up acting as a speed deterrent!

Is there a number like 311 that you can call to report public works issues?
Should we take bets on how long it takes before a truck breaks and axle from a wheel falling in the hole?
Or should we stage an accident where I fall in the hole and we win a lawsuit for millions of pounds from Manchester? ;)

Making a Community

Our neighbourhood* is not very neighbourhood-y.

We live in a lovely area of north Manchester known as Whitefield.  Our little area is built on the grounds of what used to be a school.  There are a mix of flats and town house style accommodation. It's all located off of one street that has a sort of cul-de-sac at the end.  It should be an automatic community.  

Looking towards the main road from the cul-de-sac part where we live.

There are little areas of grass dotted along the street.  The entrance to the development has two fenced-in little gardens for public use.  I've seen people in them once- I think. 

Pretty church!  Fenced in garden on the left.  

This picture is from last February, it's much prettier and greener right now :)

 We live in a section that has 6 flats behind one main door.  I assume people live in the other five flats...  No one is rude or anything.  We say "hello" when we see each other.  We have a little polite chit-chat with the elderly couple when we pass in the hall.  So it's fine.  But shouldn't it be better than fine?

Us in front of the main door to our block of flats.  Someone had taped a note to the door because someone else had parked in their spot.  That's how communication happens.

The other day, Ross and I were leaving as a young family that has recently moved into our block was coming in.  We said a friendly hello and they were fairly warm in their response.  Ross noted that they were probably the friendliest people we'd come across the building.  This got us talking about why there wasn't more of a sense of community in our area.

I guess I would love to have a few people around our area to be friendly with.  I see women about my age, but can't find a way engage them in more than the simplest of pleasantry exchanges.  It's always difficult to make new friends.  Especially as an ex-pat.  Once you're out of school, you lose that ready-made pool of possible friends.  Most people make friends through work, but I work with Ross- and no one else.  We're in the limbo zone before we've got kids.  Once you have kids, you get together for play dates and school meetings and whatever else.  You've got an automatic "in".

So I'm toying with the idea of putting on a community picnic.  I'd make up little flyer inviting everyone on our street (there are a LOT of households) to come to one of the public lawn areas and bring some food item to share.  I'd put out some lawn games to play and try to get people talking and meeting each other.

Something like that...

I go back and forth between feeling gung-ho about it and feeling defeatist.
"I should just do it!  What do I have to lose?"
"It's dumb.  No one will come and they'll think I'm weird for trying."
"Who cares what they think."
"Me!  I want friends."
"But if that's going to put them off, then they aren't the right friends for you anyway."

Blah!  I can go round and round with myself with the best of them.

What have you done to help build or find community?
If you lived in my neighbourhood would you come to my picnic?

*Spell check gives me an angry red squiggly line if I spell this without a "u", so I'm leaving it even though it looks wrong.