Lord knows I can’t even articulate WHY I am living in Franklinton let alone what I have learned from it.  And yet, it remains “the only college [we] have ever attended.” 

While eating together as a group this past Thursday night, I marveled at the idea that we have been meeting weekly to commune over a meal since the end of 2007.   EVERY week.  We have gone from Westerville to Franklinton and separate lives to communal.  We have cooperatively developed, loved, and supported:  a bicycle cooperative, an urban agriculture initiative, and a girl scout troop.  Through all this our pulse remains ticking true– Thursday night potlucks.  Cooking together, laughing together, praying together, eating together, drinking together, sitting around a fire together, often dancing together, and sometimes crying together.  All these things that we do wouldn’t matter at all if it weren’t for our weekly soul exchange.

It’s a shame in Franklinton that, at the end of autumn, as soon as sister wind bears too mightily upon our streets, everyone goes inside.  Now it’s spring and there are buds on the trees.  Babies are back outside with too much Mountain Dew and not enough supervision.  I enjoyed a slow quiet morning to myself today.  After some cleaning I took a cup of coffee with breakfast outside to the porch and sat on our front steps and swallowed deep breaths of new Franklinton air.  It is going to be a busy and hot summer, but we will be together often, and every Thursday night we will potluck.


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