I get down on you sometimes. You can be impossibly difficult and isolating. You can be boring. You can be judgmental. You can be soul crushing. But, still, you have your good points. Since it’s Thanksgiving weekend, I wanted to show you a little love.
Thank you for all your strip malls. Ugh, I hate how you look, but you are maybe, just maybe, a little bit convenient.
Thank you for my yard. Though it is filled with dog shit, it’s our own little private landscape.
Thank you for my neighbors. They look out for us, they supervise my children, they take care of their yards, they hang pretty decorations, they take in our trash cans. And they mind their own business.
Thank you for the Joneses. We have to try to keep up with someone. Don’t we?
Thank you for the mini-vans. Last week, I had 5 kids, their sleepover and soccer supplies, my dog, 5 bags of food donations, a large lamp and a frozen turkey in mine. All at once. Take that, sedan.
Thank you for the grocery stores. We live where there is easy access to wonderful, quality grocery stores. That is a good thing.
Thank you for the farmer’s market. I can still get locally grown produce and gifts there. And run into a hundred people I know! And take the dog for a walk! And get the kids out of the house! And get a last minute birthday gift! What a treasure.
Thank you for my multiple running and bike routes. While they each possess their own unique challenges, their familiarity provides comfort.
Thank you for my mailman. And my dog groomer. And the nice lady at the bread shop. And my yoga instructor. Do you ever thank your mailman? My dad was a mailman. They’re all good people. They deserve for us to be nice to them.
Thank you for my washer and dryer, the ability to let my dog out when she has to wee, grass instead of a single wall between neighbors, a playroom for the kids, a place to park my car without paying, a window in every room, my own mailbox, more than one bathroom, a dishwasher and the absence of cockroaches and mice. I didn’t have any of those things when I lived in the city.
Thank you for the coffee shop which I literally cannot enter without knowing someone.
Thank you for the 6 degrees of Kevin Bacon-feel. You can always have a connection to a person you just met, whether it’s the school your kids go to, where you grew up or common friends.
Thank you for your lack of horns, drunken bums lurking on my steps and homeless people asking me for money. Wait, I take the last one back. That does happen.
Thank you for surprising me with human warmth and substance. You really sneak up on me with that one sometimes.
Thank you for being close to the vibrancy of the city, but not actually being a big city yourself. Also thank you for not having giant fields I have to plow, or livestock I need to raise.
Thank you for being a symbol of hope for so many who want to grab a piece of the American dream.
Thank you, in spite of everything, for being our beloved home.