Reality

Reality television has a new meaning for me. I never watched it on my TV set, but the real life version outside my windows has become a sanity check after so many weeks alone.

I live at a curve in my neighborhood, so I can see a fair amount of what goes on for a block in either of two directions. The people directly across the street are the most active. They appear to be a young set of grandparents with a daughter who has two boys ages probably 6-9 who visits very frequently.  This house once let the boys roam the neighborhood on bikes. That doesn't happen now, but there are often four cars there and various projects in progress from installing refrigerators and freezers in the garage to building a patio somewhere I can't see. It's a combination HGTV and Parenthood.

Down the other street is the guy who is out there polishing and fine tuning his car for that day when he can take it out and show it off. His husky pup, which has grown considerably, watches.

And then there are the young Indian families with their children. They tend to gather at socially safe distances in the evening to laugh and talk while their children play. The sidewalk art is lovely, the children are even more so. One father was taking his little daughter on a bike ride of sorts today. They stopped frequently so she could pick dandelions and put them in her basket before taking off on another wobbly ride.

I am a combination of the adoring grandmother watching her family and Gladys Kravitz on Bewitched, standing at my window watching silent television without any backup music except for the occasional plane, lawn mower, or siren.