The other day I drove through a neighborhood in Marble Falls. The lawns were patches of brown, desiccated grass. My own yard is mostly dirt. Everything looked dead and hot. Yesterday, I drove through a neighborhood in Pearland. The lawns were verdant fields of green. Say what you will about Houston, but there is rain in this Gulf Coast town, and it shows. It gives everything a nice soft feel with undertones of cool even in the heat of a summer day.

I guess I’m a city boy at heart, and suburban, too. I find myself, as I drive around, looking at neighborhoods and thinking, that would be a nice place to live. I analyze entrances, look at the landscaping, count the trees, and wonder if there are kids about, because kids are what make a neighborhood in my book, and it’s why I think I think retirement neighborhoods feel so sterile. And there are lots of neighborhoods to see in Houston and its environs. Lots. And there are lots of kids, too.

I babysat one of them yesterday. My grandson. He lost his daycare field trip privileges, mostly for being a little boy, I suspect. Grandpa came into town to sit with him while his sister went on the field trip. We tried not to have fun, because that wasn’t the point of the stay, but he’s a sweet kid who lives in the moment and we had some nice moments. Now I need to carve out a day for his sister where we do have some fun as a reward for being a good kid. When she gets up this morning, I think I’ll ask her what she’d like to do. It will give us both something to anticipate.