Karma

Writing this year's Christmas letter was a challenge, considering the multiple losses we endured. None was terribly earth-shattering, but when I added them up, it made me understand why I'd been having a rough time. Just before Christmas last year, my father passed away; shortly after the dust settled from that, two friends announced they were returning with their families to England and Switzerland respectively; other dear friends announced almost simultaneously that they were going to spend the next nine months living overseas. It seemed as if everyone was jumping ship!

We had also endured a year of grumpy renters and year of noisy, inept remodeling in the house next door. It's easy to underestimate the impact this kind of negativity has on your peace of mind. In the summer though, it looked like our patience would be rewarded when a delightful family from Oregon moved in. They were like-minded folks, and their kids and our kids immediately hit it off, spending hours peddling around the neighborhood, climbing trees and even going to summer camp together. (Aside: Their mom was finishing up a new edition of her cookbook, The Warehouse Gourmet. I find it amusing that her book is aimed at warehouse shoppers, but she did all the recipes with organic ingredients ordered in bulk from the co-op!). Things seemed to be going so well, and then...

...her husband got transferred back to Oregon in August. The week before school started, they were gone again, and the house was back up for sale/rent. And then another house down the street went up for sale too. My neighbor and I looked at each other, as if to ask, "are you going to jump ship too?"

And did I mention the cat died, too?

And so we began a new school year, hoping desperately to connect with new families, the kind you want to while away the hours with. There are a few folks that we have connected with briefly, but between their own busy-ness and distance (North Bend!?), we haven't got into any regular social habits.

Then one glorious September morning as I was taking out the mail, a car pulled up next door, and a smiling couple got out. We chatted, and I learned they had just moved here from London to work where DH works, had two children and were seriously considering renting next door. And they did! In just a few days, we had nice neighbors, who we quickly discover are always good for an after-the-kids-are-in-bed glass of wine and a nibble of something. (They were instrumental in taste trials to perfect my chocolate soup and nudder budder recipe, but that's another story altogether!) How handy to have folks to borrow a cup of flour from, or watch the kids for ten minutes while one of us runs to the store. The men folk even walk to work together.
And then, miracle of miracle, the day of the big storm, we noted that house at the other side had sold as well, this time to a delightful couple who just moved here from Dublin with their two small boys, to work for the same mega-employer.

It seems that the tide of loss has turned to one of gain, and we shall celebrate the New Year tomorrow with a cul-de-sac brunch. The menu at this point is undecided: one of the most important aspects of food is that it feeds our souls as much (or more) than our bodies. Clearly, Champagne is in order.