It is Sunday morning and I'm sitting in my armchair listening to the roar of lawnmowers, a crying baby next door, and the incessant barking of the neighborhood dogs. The noise is continual--and it is the cacophany which is suburbia on a weekend.
This is Daily Create #1636--create a hip acroname for your neighborhood. So, this is difficult because to begin with, my neighborhood is not hip in any way, shape, or form. I live on Rock Pond Way--a series of cookie cutter homes in a cookie cutter neighborhood where the moms pretend to practice yoga and stop off for $5 cups of coffee to kvetch about the neighborhood on their way home. They drive mini-vans and store $500 strollers in their garages. The kids wear Gymboree and Gap and the dads wear striped ties and blue blazers. Creating a hip acronym for this neighborhood becomes a challenge because hip is not what we value or who we are.
So, I listen to all this noise this morning and realize, I cannot tell you a single name of a single person (or dog) who is a player in this neighborhood symphony of sound.--And, I think that's ok because my kids don't wear Gymboree and Gap; I brew my own coffee; I don't wear yoga pants or even pretend to practice yoga; I am an un-hip mama/grammy who wears faults and scars with more than a little humility and some pride. I have the wisdom borne of marriage and motherhood--my doors are rarely locked and I still don't give a damn about being hip. Though in this neighborhood of stepfords, I probably appear to be more bohemian than most.
Oh...the irony that is Ro-Po.