I've developed a bad habit.  I buy food for meals.  And never make them.  Between my busy schedule, and the ones of my Roomie and my Beau, it just doesn't happen as often as I'd like.  I pulled out the meat yesterday morning to let it defrost.  By the time I was heading home, it was almost eight and Meg was out with friends and John about to be the same.  We picked up sandwiches at the deli down the street instead.

Tonight, they both have plans again.  I decided I didn't care.  I was making the stuffed peppers I'd planned for the meat.  I pulled out the ingredients, the wine, and my MacBook.  I turned on the Michael Buble.  And I got the most wonderful feeling.  Why don't I cook for myself more often?  Pour myself more glasses of wine?  Just me.

Well, me and Michael.  Which is what inspired me to write.  For the past 8 years or more I've shared Michael with 3 very special people.  "The Neighborhood." We've spent countless summer hours listening to him - at the beach, on the way to the beach, after the beach, the morning after the beach.  But really - most summer evenings included him at some point. We sang along in the car together as we drove to Rob's grandma's in Camano, or as we sat on my back porch.  He crooned while we baked cookies, and cooked dinners, crowded together in one of our kitchens.  We've seen him twice in concert all together.  The first time right after Jeff and Elise started courting.  The second, soon after Rob & Amie got together.  I can't hear him without thinking of them in some small part of my heart.

I've made incredible friends over the past 10 years of my life.  I spend my days with a number of them. But there is this tiny little growing community known as the "Neighb" that I just can't ever get over.  I love them.  And sometimes, without warning, Michael begins to sing, and I begin to cry.  Not even really because I miss them (and I do), but because I love them.  And I can't believe how incredibly blessed I was and am to have them in my life.  Seriously.  Can't get over it.  Can't get over them.  I don't get to see them every day like I did for so many years.  I don't even see them every month.  But they constantly come to mind, especially when I'm cooking,  when I'm sipping wine, baking cookies, playing Scategories, sitting in the sunshine, or swaying and singing along to Buble.