One of the things I love about my neighbourhood, is how quickly and spontaneously a Wednesday evening turns into a party. And by party, I mean two women, 6 children, some fajitas and a bottle of Rosé. I am so grateful for such evenings. They remind me of the impromptu gatherings I grew up with, playing dress up way past sundown at the batty French house up the street, or quiet Sunday lunches at home, that turned into a feast for fifteen. As of late April when the snow finally thaws, you can always count on finding a neighbour to shoot the breeze with at the end of the day. And isn’t that great.