Posts Tagged With: neighbors

Surviving Suburbia, Or Not

Suburbia is NOT my American Dream… if such a thing exists. Every dream is different. I either want a 10 foot fence – no too stifling – or wide open spaces…no longer suburbia.

The neighbor came over yesterday to say goodbye. I actually had tears. You see, houses in our neighborhood went up 59 %. You guys, that’s ridiculous. THAT is why they are calling Colorado the next California. The neighbors are leaving because it is SO expensive to live here. Too expensive. A forced moved. We all got the dreaded assessment slips in the mail. Normally I wait to open the mail until I get home, but this time I couldn’t. And it was worse than expected. Unless you want to sell. Since getting our cards in the mail FOUR houses have popped up within walking distance.

It’s hard not to pack up everything and head for the hills. I mean, will our house ever be worth this much? EVER? Probably not. I really just want to pack everything up and LEAVE SUBURBIA. I can’t stand the drunken summer parties and the gossip.

The gossip. You guys. Mud is slung so fast around this place. Nothing is off limits. Then there are the Facebook groups. Who is getting fined for what and who is leaving their shopping carts in the parking lot instead of putting it in the cart return. One woman commented saying, “People who don’t put their carts away probably voted for Trump. They have no souls.” Really? Let’s complain about people who leave their trash cans out and the bears come out to feast. In fact two weeks ago a neighbor’s dog got eaten. We received a notice from the Sheriff to keep our children inside after dark. Let’s complain about THOSE people if we HAVE to. Which we don’t.

We have neighbors that legit walk around with jello-shots on cookie sheets during the summer. With mason jars filled with vodka. All judging my man and I because we don’t want to drink neon gelatin from a Dixie cup. Murmurs of us “thinking we are too good for them” and longtime arguments over a fence can be heard from various states of inebriation.

So it’s hard. It’s hard not to leave the rat race and disappear into obscurity. To sell high and leave all the traffic and drama behind. Buuuuut we won’t, at least not yet. Sometimes you have to do hard things…like pay a HUGE increase in taxes. Listen to gossip around you. And see the “good neighbors” go. To understand that feelings come and go and you can’t make decisions on how you feel. Even though I want to.

Don’t get me wrong. I LOVE our house and I’m so very thankful I have it to come home to every day. I love having a yard and not hearing neighbors above me. I love the space and the huge bathtub. I absolutely LOVE having an attached garage. And two cars. I truly love my family and THAT is what matters.

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Categories: Family | Tags: , , | 1 Comment

1st Run Post Baby

Have mercy.

The first run after ANY trauma is brutal.

The neighbor (lets call her Candy) and I met in the dark of morning at 5. FIVE. Poor Candy, it was our first run together and my first run in 11 months.

First runs as “buddies” are a lot like first dates. Is she saying she runs a 10 minute mile while secretly runs a 7 minute mile…while pregnant…with the stomach flu? Is she wondering if I’ve ever run at all? Is she even going to show up at 5? Am I? And then… we finished the jog, is she ever going to run with me again. Do I text first or wait for her…? See where this is going?

First off, my muscles forgot how to run. We started and I was all over the place. My shirt was coming up, my shoes fit strangely -as things often do once you have a bebe- and I couldn’t breathe. Like right off the  bat I was gasping for air. What happened to my lung capacity? What happened to my body? Why are my knees hurting? What is with all the hills? And stinging nettles?

Part of the pain is physical. I just had a baby. I’m overweight. I was JUST cleared to work out. I’m in high altitude. I’m no longer 18.

Part of it is mental. I USED to be able to run fast. I USED to be able to run for miles. I USED to run easily. For fun. I used to weigh a lot less. I used to fit in my running skorts! When you think about where you’ve been as opposed to where you are now, it can be discouraging.

Back to the run. By mile .35 miles my left calf was burning. Just great. And then it sorta stopped working. The perpetual almost cramp that causes you to run with a funny tilt and praying it doesn’t become a full blown cramp. And while your new running buddy, or possible running buddy stares at you strangely, you hope you don’t fall. Like this is a serious concern.

But, I made it. And it wasn’t pretty. I was a sweaty mess. I ran upstairs thinking Q was in the shower, but he was sleeping, I’d only heard the lawn sprinklers coming on. Sad. I headed back down the stairs only to have my calf finally seize and cramp causing me to catapult down the stairs. Awesome.

Between the jog and the stairs – I’m nothing if not graceful.

Honestly, I’m just glad it is over and that I’m not pregnant anymore. I’d much rather workout and have a beautiful baby than pregnant with a valid excuse.

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Categories: Sports, Weightloss, Wellness | Tags: , , , , | 6 Comments

Suburbia Pt. One – Advice Please

Q and I now live in Suburbia. Complete with a white fence, or is the colour Egg Shell? We have planted flowers and shrubs. We have neighbors and a yard. All of us are new builds and all of us moved in within 6 months of each other.

Remember that fence? The fences are NOT in when you move in. Nope, all that surrounds your home is clay dirt. It is your job to landscape your yard. Whoever wants a fence puts it up. End of story…right?

No. Almost EVERY neighbor owns a dog. There are only three houses that don’t, and ours is one of them. That being said, we don’t care if there is a fence or not. MONTHS ago our immediate neighbor put up a fence. And MONTHS later -today- the neighbor walked into our garage and asked me why we haven’t yet paid for our part of the fence… Pardon? We NEVER spoke about the fence…EVER. We never agreed to anything. I said as much and she blurted that the fence is mutually beneficial so…

I want to have a good relationship with our neighbors. At the same time I want boundaries. You can’t just decide what we pay for and what we don’t… Right? If they had spoken with us FIRST perhaps, but even so we aren’t interested in a fence.

And now I feel like an adult.

 

 

Categories: Crazy Town | Tags: , | 6 Comments

Never Give Your Neighbor a…

dog. Ever.

Well our neighbor didn’t give us a dog, her sister did. Phyllis’s sister to be exact – let’s call her Matilda. Why did she do this? Because she thought GOONER would want a dog. A 3 month old male puppy named “Blew” to be exact, who happens not to be potty trained. The gift was complete with a blue collar, blue leash, and blue dog bed. BUT she wanted to clarify that though everything is BLUE you spell the dogs name as B.L.E.W. Get it? Um, I didn’t. I guess you have to be over 80 to understand.

Tragically, or not so tragically, Gooner didn’t even want to touch the dog, much less take it home. Matilda and Phyllis were appalled that I would turn down such a special gift without speaking to Q first. Ha, somethings a wife just KNOWS. Even though MY answer was no…3 year old, 6 month old, AND 3 month old PUPPY, yah no, but I scurried back to my house to inform Q of the latest development in our lives.

“Q, the neighbors bought us a dog.”
“You are kidding right?”
“Nope, his name is Blew.”
“What kind of dog?”
“Um, black. You know with long hair. Where it’s mouth hair always looks gross and wet because it’s always drooling.”
“Nope, don’t want it.”
“K, thanks.”
 
Yah, so I went BACK outside, gathered my children and returned home sans dog. Who does this? Who buys someone a PUPPY? Without asking? That’s just weird.

My advice: Don’t do it. Instead maybe give your neighbor some Banana Bread or even a wreath if you are feeling crafty.

Categories: Crazy Town, Random | Tags: , | 12 Comments

Word on the Street

Everyone is moving. Or at least it feels like it. A bunch of folks moved out in May, then June, then July… So, we have a lot of new faces and at times sadly, saying goodbye to old ones.

The funny part of it all, is the DRAMA that unfolds as people move. See, we have TWO busy bodies that love information, talking and gossiping. From where our condo is located I can see what MOST folks are doing, or NOT doing. What I don’t see I hear about from…let’s call her Betty. She’s 76, she tells my 3 year old that…every day. She flashes her hands 7 times and then counts to 6 and then waits for Gooner to “guess” her age. Reminder, she’s 3.

Anyway, Betty, has opinions on EVERYONE, and what they are doing. I suppose a little like me… ahem. Betty calls the cops if you are noisy make a peep and the fire department if you barbecue. Let me tell you I was PETRIFIED about bringing home a newborn, I mean newborns do cry. And ours did a lot. But although Betty noticed the “wailing” she said it was “to be expected.” Therefore she did not call the cops or complain to me, but maybe to my neighbors??? She collects and SAVES all sorts of memorabilia for my girls. You know, things like broken flat screen TV’s and such. With all the moving, she’s found all sorts of goodies. And so has our OTHER neighbor…we will call her Phyllis. She even found a BROKEN, SHARP, dusty, gross basket and asked if Gooner or her friend Momo wanted it for their toys. That, “if the girls don’t want it, it’s going to goodwill.” This was said in a TONE, one where clearly we would be STUPID mothers to ignore a gem like this. I spoke on behalf of Momo’s Mom and myself and replied, “we both have plenty of bins that won’t maim our girls.” Why didn’t she just ask Momo’s Mom when she was alone? Maybe she did, I don’t know. BUT, I suspect it comes from old age and the fact that she NEVER remembers their names or where they live. She asks me regularly.

But they are sweet. With good hearts. Yet, if we are in a rush, we know that it is faster to wait than to have a conversation with one of these ladies. Because if you cross Betty, have mercy, she might call the cops. If she does I’m buying wind chimes.

Categories: Friends | Tags: | 8 Comments

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