You (both of you) may remember that for my last birthday I bought a Little Free Library for my front yard. Reiley and Eli from across the street installed it.  Everyone contributed a book or two.

I think we get more lookers than readers, but that’s okay with me.

Here are some dear neighbors having a discussion — perhaps not a book discussion — out front.

Joe’s a farrier who lives around the corner with his wife Sue and their adorable daughter Harriet and a couple of big dogs, Max, and I can’t remember the other dog’s name.

You can’t see Maggie in this shot.  She and her stroller are obscured by the tree.  Her mom Abby and her dad Kent live on the corner with their dog Jenny.  Maggie was born over a year ago at 27 weeks gestation. When she finally came home from the NICU, Sue and Joe organized us to keep our distance but we all stood out in the street and applauded.  Actually, I’m pretty sure I cried.

I live in a very diverse neighborhood. We have the governor’s house up the street and Willamette House where the president of Willamette University lives.  Behind me on the alley, we have some very modest houses typically rented out to multiple college kids.

When I first moved here in 1998, there were no children.  Mary and Reiley’s last chick, Collette, was finishing up high school.

Now, by actually count, on my street — counting Joe and Sue around the corner — there are eight families with children.  And now that Ruth and Dan have moved to Capitol Manor, I am the senior resident on our street.  And and new family are moving in as I write.

“Denmark offers to buy America from Russia.”

These days, I’m not sure I would mind hat very much.  I like their prime minister and their health care.

We live in silly times. Some folks think POTUS is the antichrist. Others seem to think he is the second coming. As for me, if he were a silly 5th-grader, I would just laugh. Since he’s POTUS, I’m just trying to stay calm.

I know pride is a sin, but that’s not something I worry about very much.

I am very proud of my three daughters, but not for the reasons most parents brag about.

My daughters were raised very traditionally.  In spite of that, that all grew up to be amazing women, and not in the way I might have imagined when they were babies  — which means that my life is not now what I would have imagined either.  It is better.

Seems like old women often ask others how many grand children they have. Nevermind that they don’t know whether the others even had children. Recently, a very annoyingly glad-handing woman at church asked me and a childless friend how many grands we have. When we said none, she looked amazed and made a “zero” gesture with her hand. That seemed to be the only topic she new how to engage in.

Others are on their children’s case to “give them grandchildren.” You know, traditional as I was in the old days, I did not have children so they would grow up and have babies “for me.”  None did.  That is not the direction their amazing lives took.

Other old parents go on about how proud they are, not only because they have lots of grandchildren, but because of the professions their children went into.  I just listen.

Here’s what I am proud of about my children:  Every one of them is kind and open-minded.  Not a bigot  in the bunch. No narrow-mindedness.  Critical thinkers. Living meaningful lives. Not at all what I might have imagined  Better.  And I know it’s not about me.

Have three small raised beds out back.  I try only to grow what I can harvest so that I don’t feed any wildlife.  One bed produces asparagus early in May.  Then I use it for a tomato plant.

This year I planted a Belgian heirloom.

One bed is planted with ever-bearing raspberries.  I get a handful for my breakfast most mornings from June to October.

One is potatoes.