It was cool to meet so many of our neighbours–some people who have only been here for a year or two and others who have seen the place go from unincorporated farmland to a city neighbourhood. One man, with a six year-old daughter, started to introduce himself to a neighbour and she said, “Oh, you’re the Eagle Scout who knocked on my door all those years ago and signed me up to learn CPR!”
The food turned out better than any potluck has a right to. The beer was cold, the sun warm, the conversation lively. It turns out our neighbours are heartier partyers than me–I lasted about two hours but many people were there for four.
Here for your delectation and delight are two pix (taken by the lovely K). This is the commons:
This is a view from the other direction (our driveway on the left):
Nicola Griffith 
How fun! Yesterday, I was at a potluck too with members of the CSA I belong to 40 minutes outside of the city. We had a work party first that involved weeding and creating mounds around three country-long rows of potato plants, then adding straw mulch. (I'm a very bad judge of distance… but let's just say that if I had to do them all myself, it would take days and I would weep. We all agreed there's a reason factory farming became popular…doing it the old fashioned way is a lot of work! and really requires community.) When it was time for the potluck, we were all *very* ready to eat. The food was glorious – most, including the naturally leavened bread made in the wood-fired brick oven in the kitchen, was homemade. After dinner, a small bunch of us made our way to the giant trampoline with the kids where we made up stories and games until we couldn't see anything but fireflies and the silhouettes of each other. I got lost driving home (took one wrong turn on one of the country roads) and loved every minute of the loamy country air under the sliver of yellow moon.
Community-building is deeply gratifying. (And the drive sounds lovely.)