Nibbling along

There I was, sat at a table at the Thai place down the road, outside on the stoep (verandah to my UK readers. Well, reader - Mud), the new moon (and, no, nothing to do with those blooming teenage vampire hearthrobs who seem to be taking over the world) just visible above the rooftop across the road, balmy air, looking around a table at which there were seven people. Six of us live within walking distance, and the seventh was The Pond, who is here from Faraway. She used to live with me, and still has a place in The House in the Middle of the Street so, basically, we were all from The Hood.

It got me thinking how lucky I am, to live in the area I live in, with the other people who live there. It's a small suburb, within a bigger suburb which prides itself on it's 'village' persona. We have a little street of restaurants, we have a Village Association, and we have rules about not building high rise buildings. People (generally) greet each other in the streets and their dogs, and then them, make friends in the parks (we have three). It's just all rather lovely really.

My mind wrapped itself warmly in those thoughts as I stared at the silver sliver moon and the easy conversation between the people at the table became background noise until my reverie was interrupted, not unpleasantly, by the lovely Thai lady who owns the place saying:

"Would you like any starters to nibble along before your mains?"

Who can say no to starters to nibble along?