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Mayberry

July 9, 2011

We are spending our weekend at the ballfields. AJ is struggling a bit — he seems nervous. His team lost their first two games, both heartbreakers. In the first one, they were down 10 runs but ended up coming back and losing 17-16 (welcome to the high-scoring world of Little League). In the second, they were ahead until the last inning when they lost their cool. They lost that game by two runs. Game three, however, they won handily and there was much rejoicing. And also pizza.

I spent most of my day at the ballpark thinking about housing options and feeling like I should be working on the house. With the possibility of three games tomorrow, I may bail on some baseball in the interest of keeping my sunburned self from any further damage and also in getting the ceiling of the bathroom scraped and patched. But I can’t say it’s unpleasant sitting outside on a nice summer day. The park was full of chatting parents and grandparents in folding chairs and on blankets laid out under the shade trees. Kids ran all over, from field to field to the playground, to the basketball courts and back again. Half a dozen uniformed boys were lounging in the low branches of the giant and inviting tree behind the third base bleachers of field 2. Other kids were buying popsicles at the concessions stand or lemonade at a stand some enterprising child had set up on the corner across from the park. At game three, one of the fathers sat behind the outfield fence in the shade of the trees that shield the ballfields from the train tracks and strummed his guitar while watching the boys play. I was thinking that looked like an excellent idea. I wish I’d thought of it.

And I thought about the move we’re making from Mayberry to Gotham. It’s going to be a big change. I’m ready for it, but there are definitely things I’m going to miss, like sitting around leafy ball fields talking to all the kids and parents we know, ball fields where people I’ve never met cheer for my kid because they know his uniform. I know there’s baseball in New York, but it will be different baseball. And I remembered the day shortly after we moved here when I walked down Main Street and suddenly a boy appeared in front of me, hanging by his knees from a tree, his fingers and mouth stained red. “You want some cherries?” he asked me. I politely declined and the boy disappeared back up into the tree again. I remember thinking I’d wandered into a fairy tale or an episode of the Andy Griffith Show. This town drives me crazy sometimes, but it’s a nice town just the same and I’m going to miss it.

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4 Comments leave one →
  1. July 10, 2011 11:24 am

    I’m going to miss you being there.

  2. July 10, 2011 5:01 pm

    Thinking you live in Chicago is very wrong. I’m always amazed at your small town stories. The stories will change. Can’t wait to read about them all. Maybe pen pal-ing will be helpful to
    AJ during this change. Pook loved swaping emails with him.

  3. July 11, 2011 2:50 pm

    I could not handle the move you are about to make. Period. My hat is off to the Spy family for having the courage to make such a change.

  4. Peti permalink
    July 17, 2011 1:33 pm

    The city will have so many opportunities, though, and you will come to know and love things you may not even have imagined yet. Plus, AJ will be more well-rounded having grown up in urban and rural (ish?) environments. I guess the transition will have its rough patches, but overall, I think you guys will have fun exploring the new digs. Think of how much living in London did for your well-roundedness, I guess 🙂

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