Neighbors. They can be so very interesting. The great news is that the more you move, the more stories you collect. Continue reading
neighbors
3 posts
This post is, of course, prompted by my own current neighbour troubles. None of them is really all that dire (no one leaving their outdoor water running so as to wash away my house’s foundations, as I read somewhere ages ago) but they do irk.
The barking dogs, left in their front yard. For a while I deployed a silent whistle, which seemed promising, but it’s REAL tiresome to have to spend the evening dumping the cat off my lap and getting up and going to the door time after time (the whistle doesn’t work through walls or glass). Continue reading
Growing up in the suburban idylls of East Williston, life was pretty good. Mom and Dad were mostly normal, there was an endless round of parties and trips to the beach and the local pool (Christopher Morely Park, for those North Shore-ites here at CT), the neighbors were neighborly, and Wheatley Hills, the golf club, wasn’t too fusty for young people. (There was a sex toy in the caddy locker room closet. I’ll never know why.)