Feeling the neighborhood love

Or not.

When AB and I were looking for our second home we weren't terribly particular with neighborhoods. We just wanted a nice home and really, in our part of the town, anything was open to us as we just wanted to be in the South end of the city.

When we found our house we didn't really think about the temple on the corner of a particular religious persuassion. Maybe we should have thought about that we were living in "Temple Meadows".

When I tell people where I live I can easily say, "behind the temple" and people know where we are. I have had more than one person say, "oh, are you XXX religion?" Maybe we should have known? Or maybe we were just naive.

Honestly I don't know how many of our neighbors are of that particular religion.

I believe this is partly because after just over two years in our home, we don't know our neighbors.

In our old neighborhood we knew the first names of our neighbors on each side, their kids and families up and down the street. We had two teenagers ready to babysit and knew that the guy four houses down was running for Mayor. We met and banded together to oppose construction of an apartment complex behind us as well as to request that a builder who came in to develop the last two lots in our neighborhood follow the code established (that required that 1/3 of the front of the house be in rock or brick). We were a community.

I don't get that in our new neighborhood. We know our neighbors immediately adjacent on one side alright, an elderly couple who are quite sweet and very helpful with RV and yard questions. And I know the family down from them only a little. Their kids are staggered from ours and the oldest isn't terribly interested in playing with someone 18 months younger than him and their youngest has a weird and vocal aversion to girls.

Yeah, we don't do much with them.

It isn't like we hide in our house. We walk most evenings around the neighborhood. We sit out on our patio and the kids play in the yard.

Still I feel as though the neighbors walk a wide berth.

I have wondered if it is because we aren't one of "them". (The ones who attend the temple.)

Or if we just live in an unfriendly neighborhood?

This blog has been rolling around in my head for a few months. Maybe even a year. How do I write this without whining. Or seeming like I am opposed to their religious persuassion (I think I blogged about Leif stating that Darth Vadar lived in the temple.)

Tonight kind of kicked it over that edge.

We were out for our evening walk and walked down a street that we walk maybe once or twice a month. Skadi was on her trike (as she is boycotting the bike with training wheels we were loaned), Leif was walking and the dogs were ambling along. A woman came out of her house.

AB: "Hello, what a lovely evening!"

Witch: "I don't like you or your dogs because they poop in my yard."

Umm hello to you too.

Nope. My dogs don't poop in your yard. They might walk there on occasion. But they don't poop there.

Rudeness? My neighborhood has it.

Things that make you go 'hmmm'...

The other night I hugged Leif and told him as I do almost every night, “I am the luckiest mom in the world to have you as my little boy, how did I get so lucky?”

Leif, to my surprise, replied to that. “Well when I was in heaven before I was in your tummy, I picked you, that’s why” he told me.

(Insert my surprise here.)

“You picked me when you were in heaven?” I asked him.

“Of course I picked you, I remember,” he says all matter of factly.

“Why did you pick me?” I asked him, deciding to push this a bit further.

“Because I liked how you looked,” he answered simply.

At that point all I could do was hug him, of course.

Cheeses

Sorry to get your hopes up if you were looking for a blog that might make you drool. Yes, I like cheeses too... but...

NM: "Which book do you want to read tonight?"

Leif: "I want to read the book about cheeses!"

NM: "I don't know what that one is, is it the Mickey book?" (Not a bad guess, there is cheese pictured there.)

Leif: "No. The cheeses book. Happy birthday cheeses."

NM: (totally perplexed) "Your cookbook?"

Leif: "No cheeses, Happy Birthday cheeses!"

A few days later...

Leif: "Look mommy! My happy birthday cheeses book is in the car!"

NM: (I look back while driving.) "Oh you mean Happy birthday JESUS!"

Duh.