I’ve been having a bit of a problem lately. Nothing huge. In fact, it’s quite minor compared to most problems, but it’s so pesky, so annoying . . . that sometimes I want to scream at the top of my lungs.
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.
Once I thought about it, I understood.
The Shocking Goodbye to Life in Florida
My old neighborhood back in Florida
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.
I have more to share in the way of the freak show that is my neighborhood. After the hoarder, the creepy crop-circle man, and the Jamaican juju magic, this time I’ll give you a hodgepodge of stories in one post.
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.
Crop Circles and Socks with Sandals
… 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.
The Neighborhood Fort
… continued from Neighborhood Secrets.
When I posted my views from a morning walk and views from an evening walk, I showed photos from my neighborhood stroll with the dog. Many people commented about the nice area where I lived, but I’m going to let you in on our dirty little secrets … literally.