When we first moved to our community 19 years ago, I was a dyed in the wool city girl. In retrospect, with that inimitable 20/20 vision, we moved prematurely. The third child wasn’t a gleam in our eyes, the middle one was only six months old and the oldest was two. We went from a high rise on a bustling city street to a red ranch house on a cul-de-sac where every store and sign of life was a two-mile drive. We moved in the spring, so at least the roads were passable since driving was my only diversion: with the kids in car seats, I explored a not-so-brave new world.