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The View From My Front Door
I live in Pleasantville.  I really do.  Of course it's not formally called that, but it is most affectionately nicknamed that by many of its' inhabitants.  We're technically part of a city, though to find us, you have to make your way up a forest-lined road, snaking its way up a mountain.  We have it all here, the flora and the fauna and the quick proximity to all the amenities the city itself has to offer.  We are just far enough outside of the city proper to ensure that the riff-raff find it a bit of an inconvenience to bother with us (not so far, mind you, that a couple of said riff-raff didn't find the time and the energy to steal two of our four children's bikes Halloween night).

We stay-at-home moms (and there really are a great number of us, living here in Pleasantville) walk our uniformed children to school in the mornings en masse.  If you weren't expecting it, you might do a double take at the sight of us all.  For just a second, you'd wonder if somehow you haven't made  your way back to 1940.  It felt mildly disconcerting at first, from the perspective of an inner city dweller cum 1940's-Housewife, but now I only rejoice in the retro-ness of it all.  My kids are so safe here.  Oodles of other children swarm the cul-de-sacs and the meandering streets with their poetic names after school.  The doorbell rings constantly.  We're right back to sharing our flour and eggs and sometimes even our canned refried beans around here.  There's always someone you trust to turn to in times of need.  Something in all of this slightly cheesy togetherness touches me deep inside my jaded soul.  In the middle of the chaos that the city so often embodies, you can get yourself a can of free, spontaneous refried beans and a homey chat elaborating upon how good it is that the street sweeper has done such a nice job.  And you know,  he really has.
 


Comments

02/14/2010 8:47pm

I remember my first trip into your 'hood to see where my brother would be building his house. It only took one turn off of the main road and into pleasantville for me to completely panic.
What was this place?
Slightly edward scissorhands-esque, perfectly manicured yards, happy voices coming from children at the park - it had to be a cult!
I warned my brother and his family that this would be a big mistake!
Of course just a few short years later we had moved in as well and realized that it's charm definitely surpasses the initial creepiness!

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02/26/2010 4:29pm

Rhonda,
This hood would only be enhanced to have one such as you re-join our ranks. Maybe the Fasts would like to join the Joys for SpringBreak shenanigans?

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