So, I was minding my own business walking the dog. The weather was cold, but not frigid, and dusk would soon give way to the super moon. I’ve never walked Max while listening to music or on the phone, because I believe it’s important to pay attention to the dog and my surroundings. On this particular day, I needed to make an important call. I wore earbuds and was on the phone while maintaining a moderate, steady pace. A man pulled up beside me and rolled down his window.
People walk here. I probably see double the amount of people walking in my new neighborhood in the Chicago suburbs then back in Florida where I lived.
There are also more people at parks, on bikes and sitting out on their porches. I wondered how the Sunshine State could have less people interested in the outdoors. I rarely saw people sitting outside there.
Remember the blogs about my bizarre neighbors? Well, those stories were nothing compared to the grand finale send off that my neighborhood gave me just four days before I moved away.
Long before the hoarder house two doors down and the crop-circle house around the corner, a young couple lived next door to us. The man was an Arab, Muslim. His girlfriend, from Colombia, wore low-cut shirts freely displaying her bouncy double D’s. Hey, don’t ask me, I have no idea how that relationship worked with him being Muslim.
… continued from The Neighborhood Fort.
So, the Homeowners Association warned me to steer clear of the house with the man who made crop circles in his driveway. But, there was no way I was going to stop walking my dog, Max, around the neighborhood, and it was difficult to avoid that area. Besides, my Australian Shepherd needed exercise, not to mention, so did I.
I took a camera with me on my morning walk with the dog. Thought I’d share some of the simple Florida neighborhood sites.
Below is something we commonly see on trees here.
Every neighborhood has one of them. Okay, maybe not every neighborhood, but every neighborhood I’ve lived in.
I wrote about the mystery creep house where I grew up in my short story Home Avenue in the book anthology Home Avenue. Some kids called it the monsters house, or the haunted house, or the spooky house. Nonetheless, the dwelling was only two doors down from where I lived.
So here it is … finally … my first blog and my memoir anthology Home Avenue. WELCOME! If you can relate to anything I write here, please feel free to dive in with your own stories. I find human behavior fascinating and love to try and figure out why we do what we do. Why did I act, or react, a certain way? Why did s/he act, or react in a certain way? Okay, so maybe I analyze a too much, but in doing so I’ve improved many relationships in my life. Not because others did anything to change, but because I figured out a better way of working with them.
Here is a description of the stories in my anthology.
Don’t Blink is about a trip to Italy with six of my female relatives. The very first page will give you a snicker when you read about the fiascos of my grandma who came along for the trip. Any funny females in your family?
You better not be hungry when you read Hope Lies in Meatballs. Lots of Italian food you may be able to smell right through your tablet when you read this one. Anyone up for a recipe?
What was it like when you were a kid? Home Avenue is what life was like when we middle-agers were kids.
Don’t’ forget to read about my two heroes in In the Bears Den with Dad.
Stay tuned, if I can better figure out how to use this blog site, I’ll put up photos of things I refer to in my anthology.
If you like dogs, I also have one short story about my beloved dog in the book anthology Dogs and the Women Who Love Them.
I look forward to hearing your stories too. Share about your childhood neighborhood. How ‘bout a cooking story or recipe? Any “Daddy’s girls” reading this blog? I’d love to read about you.