(r-run) When I was a newlywed, living in San Diego, my next door neighbor, Doreen, befriended me. She noticed I was home alone a lot, since my teaching job ended at 3:00, and my new husband didn’t come home from work until 7:00 or so. Doreen invited me over for food and chit chat. Once,… Continue reading Worst Dog Sitting Ever
Julie got divorced and moved into her new townhouse with her six-year-old son. One day, when she was out walking her dog, a guy mowing his lawn turned off the mower and said hello. They chatted about her dog, and Julie mentioned that she had just moved in. Doug rode his bike a lot while… Continue reading If You Date your Neighbor
The joke going around social media is that if you want to get rid of your junk, put it in an Amazon box and leave it on your porch. It’s not that funny around my neighborhood. Porch pirates are everywhere this time of year. Neighbors are sure to tell each other when they will be… Continue reading Porch Pirates, Poinsettias and Peaches
Okay, I admit it. I am a thrift store junkie. So when I go to my fave beach town, I make sure to stop at every thrift store at least once. That makes for six stops, nine if I venture down to Carmel. This trip I stayed in my town. I wandered into Second Chance… Continue reading How Thrifting Improved my Day
I’d sold a thousand dollars’ worth of tea cups and dinner plates the year before. When Sis moved in with me, I had to let all that inventory go. It hadn’t been selling that well on Etsy anyway, and Etsy had just changed its policies and had kicked me off their site. Why? Because they… Continue reading Beware of Craigslist?
No dogs were walked, no outside balls were thrown, and no outdoor chores got done, including painting my new white locking mailbox gray to blend in the neighbors’ 45 year old boxes, and cleaning up the hedge and pine needles strewn across the greenbelt next to my property. Yes, it seems silly to have to… Continue reading The Sunday After
When I was young, the one black boy in my elementary school was my classmate. His name was Teddy. This was white-white-white Iowa in the 60’s. My first grade teacher, Mrs. Van Cura, got angry at the class one day for misbehaving and said, “Whoever doesn’t behave will have to play with Teddy at recess.”… Continue reading The Racist and the Ficus Tree