(no subject)
It's hard to describe what I like about our neighborhood. It's somewhat mediocre. To the east, there's a large apartment complex, built in a sort of South Western style, with lots of arches and recessed outdoor lighting. The kind of thing that in the mid-West signals only a Taco Bell.
Our street is a mixed bag, mostly elderly folk (off to the right somewhere, there's a retired man who seems to be cared for, occasionally, by lesbians, and his neighbor, an awkwardly dressed Asian woman who can be seen walking for exercise through the nearby resort community, clad in attire that doesn't quite sit well w/ her Western surroundings: too pentatonic, too loud) and middle-aged Mexicans, many of whom own their own businesses (directly across from us are a cleaning woman and a landscaper, the latter of whom can be seen tending roses and citrus a couple of times a week).
At first, the hood seemed iffy, an opinion mirrored by Craig's sister-in-law and niece, although they referred to it as ghetto. And despite taking offense, there were reasons to call it so...the kid across the street shooting his sling shot at our car, Helen and Bob (the local homeless couple that beds down, literally, around the corner for a couple of weeks each year), those sporadic summer swap meets on the corner close by, full of old strollers and dressers and microwave ovens, no doubt the loot of the assumed house cleaners across the alley who are constantly filling up our shared dumpster w/ stuff.
But it's quiet. Most of the block is well manicured. There's no theme or consistent landscape style, necessarily, but it seems most people care for their yards, even down those three seemingly poorer blocks to the south.
I like it here.
Sometimes, I'll mention how we're not up to snuff, in some superficial manner. I likened our house to a dungeon the other day, but my Craigers didn't like that. He's too sensitive that way; occasionally takes my poetic dramatics as negativity. But I love him so. And this place.
I am comfortable for the next six to nine hundred days just lazing about. Maybe going back to school as per our talks back in the day. Adding all that sambal oelek to my ramen noodles.
We replanted this stupid dying aloe in against the side wall today, and I'm hoping it will actually grow.
The pot it was in was heavy as fuck and cheap, so when I tried to move it, it shredded like it was made of a sheet of cardboard.
Eff that noise.
Our street is a mixed bag, mostly elderly folk (off to the right somewhere, there's a retired man who seems to be cared for, occasionally, by lesbians, and his neighbor, an awkwardly dressed Asian woman who can be seen walking for exercise through the nearby resort community, clad in attire that doesn't quite sit well w/ her Western surroundings: too pentatonic, too loud) and middle-aged Mexicans, many of whom own their own businesses (directly across from us are a cleaning woman and a landscaper, the latter of whom can be seen tending roses and citrus a couple of times a week).
At first, the hood seemed iffy, an opinion mirrored by Craig's sister-in-law and niece, although they referred to it as ghetto. And despite taking offense, there were reasons to call it so...the kid across the street shooting his sling shot at our car, Helen and Bob (the local homeless couple that beds down, literally, around the corner for a couple of weeks each year), those sporadic summer swap meets on the corner close by, full of old strollers and dressers and microwave ovens, no doubt the loot of the assumed house cleaners across the alley who are constantly filling up our shared dumpster w/ stuff.
But it's quiet. Most of the block is well manicured. There's no theme or consistent landscape style, necessarily, but it seems most people care for their yards, even down those three seemingly poorer blocks to the south.
I like it here.
Sometimes, I'll mention how we're not up to snuff, in some superficial manner. I likened our house to a dungeon the other day, but my Craigers didn't like that. He's too sensitive that way; occasionally takes my poetic dramatics as negativity. But I love him so. And this place.
I am comfortable for the next six to nine hundred days just lazing about. Maybe going back to school as per our talks back in the day. Adding all that sambal oelek to my ramen noodles.
We replanted this stupid dying aloe in against the side wall today, and I'm hoping it will actually grow.
The pot it was in was heavy as fuck and cheap, so when I tried to move it, it shredded like it was made of a sheet of cardboard.
Eff that noise.