Home Sweet Home

I love my house. I LOVE IT!

I was so lucky that the owners were in a hurry to sell. I don’t care that it’s the smallest house on the street, maybe even the whole neighborhood. It’s perfect for me. It looks like a cottage – all dark, gray stone and siding, tucked among the oak trees.

That’s the best thing about older, more established neighborhoods – the trees.

And the neighbors…

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Where are my next-door neighbors? I know they’re there. I just haven’t seen them. Should my feelings be hurt?

This isn’t the country, Amy, and you only moved in three days ago.

Everyone’s busy.

And look who’s talking! What did I do this morning? I got into my car, pulled out of my garage, and here I am on my way to work.

No one saw me, either.