September 26, 2022:
My home is lovely. Spanish tile floors and stairways, picture windows, charming deck overlooking verdant little canyon.
But it lacks privacy. Cars day and night: teenagers, landscapers, party suppliers. In the six minutes it takes to unload groceries I count eight cars: five up, three down. Not at all anticipated for a little rural tree-lined cul-de-sac.
And it's noisy. Construction nearby, a new house going up on a lot I'd been told would remain vacant.
They're good about it, and they let me out. Shame, though. The house is lovely.