My Sixth September (all over again)

It was my sixth September. 

Most of my memories from my inaugural year into grade school have all but dissipated, but there is one memory that is, and has always been, a vivid recollection. It's vividness had more to do with a feeling then the activity. Perhaps that's why it's color never faded.

It was recess. All of us bright and shiny, new (and back to) school kids poured out of the heavy metal doors of the aging brick schoolhouse set in the center of town. It was the longest recess of the day, situated to handily burn off our energy burst that was Little Debbie's fault.

I will never forget that lunchtime recess during my sixth September. Bright yellow leaves the size of a big man's hand were falling from the Oak trees towering over the old wire fence that guarded the playground. There was no kid in OshKosh overalls who stood on the monkey bars (we still had 'em back then) and organized what happened. It just began unannounced, all these children with a suddenly singular purpose: to fit the bright yellow leaves in every diamond shaped opening of the wire fence. I distinctly remember walking among this bustling group of my peers, and this fresh, new sense of being part of something bigger than myself settling over me. It was an organic coming together of the grades, with all of our differences, to stuff leaves in a fence and make it one long wall of yellow. 

***

I have thought about this Coffee Cottage and what I should do with it. Either close shop, spiff it up or something else entirely. "Something else entirely" is what I sensed God whispering to me, with a few more specifics to go along with it. Thus, I am moving to a new "address" on this extraordinarily full digital landscape. I am moving into a virtual neighborhood that I am already loving and eager to share with you (but it's still in the "construction phase"). There are a few women who I also felt God directing me to ask join me in this 'hood and their agreement and enthusiasm about it is leaving me with that familiar feeling from my sixth September. We will not be gathering leaves to decorate a fence, but we will be gathering as neighbors who come at life from differing angles. We are women who share the need for honest conversation, love to laugh and appreciate the exchanging of what is really important in life. Pretty much like Lucy and Ethel. Or Laverne and Shirley. Or Mary and Rhoda.

I am going to keep on sharing my raw musings on life, as a woman, wife and mother...but I am bringing a few of my favorite "neighbors" along and I think you're gonna want to meet them. I'm pretty exhilarated at the the thought.

***

I would tell you more, but my husband just got home from clothes shopping for himself and I am extraordinarily curious. And worried.

Thank you, as always, for taking a little time to come visit me here. I so appreciate you!