There Are Many Pleasure To Being the Mt. Pleasant Porch Writer, Including Progenitors Who Sing Italian Operas as They Walk By

The beautiful thing about spring, summer, fall writing and work is I operate from my front porch and am witness to the Universe of Mt. Pleasant. In addition to the diversity of the U.S. walking by my house to Wooster Middle School are the countless number of others who meander down my street doing as they do: exercise, strolling, running, taking kids for walks, and recollecting with Italian opera ballads at the top of one's lungs, including this fellow who I captured somewhere between grading a Think Piece and prepping an asynchronous research course for tonight. It's simply precious.

Last night, I had the honor of hosting perhaps the last Johnson, Sealey, Wooley gathering before their big move to Penn State, although we made arrangements that they might move in for a few days as they need to be out of their house before their house is ready (the Metallica concert is in August...that can wait). 

Dave made the most delicious lemon pasta dish (I'm so learning how to make this for my mom and sisters) and I grilled up a storm. I'm so used to the back and forth gatherings, that I haven't gotten my head around the fact that they are actually moving away from here. They are family and so much a part of my routine. I love them to death: intellect, craziness, laughter, and good ol' figuring out the life shit stuff.

I'm waking up to a household of dishes needing to be put away, a class that needs to be recorded for tonight, and a warehouse of supplies needing to be sorted in my office on campus. July is approaching fast. But if I could assist today's post with loud operatic male singing, I would, simply to capture the joy this man brings to the street every day.