America

A thought struck me the other day. We've now lived at The Cool House longer than we lived in our previous house on Long Island. The first four years in the States seemed to go by slowly, we learned coping strategies for the huge portions in restaurants but not before we'd each gained five hundred pounds, one of us learned to say watuh so we could get a drink with our meals, and we allowed people to bring coffee and other beverages into our car. In short we adapted. The past four years in this house have simply flown by but in all this time there was one thing that still irked The Guy, there was one image of America he'd gleaned from the movies that had never become reality. He, bless, had thought that anytime a new person moved into the area, neighbors dropped round with pie. Or at least left one on the porch. (I know. He's thinking of 1950s America. Bless again). He'd talked to Americans about this and some had mentioned being given zucchini bread many years ago, but this was in real America not Long Island.

Then on Sunday something happened that renewed The Guy's faith in his dream, his ideal America. A knock at the door, a neighbor bearing a baking dish. Pie? No. Even better, the Awesome Designer sent the Loyal Blog Reader over with Mac 'n' Cheese. Not just any mac 'n' cheese, mind you, but Mac 'n' Cheese with White Truffles. A truly magnificent dish and a gesture that meant so much to The Guy. I swear there were tears in his eyes as he ate it. It might have taken eight years but the spirit of America was embodied in that casserole. Thank you, neighbors.

Now, America, if you'd just get out and vote for Obama on November 4th, you would make my dreams come true, too.