My immediate next-door neighbors are an older gentleman and his adult daughter he lives with. I met him a few days ago (but haven't seen her yet) and his speech indicates the possibility of a stroke at some point. He was very friendly, and we shook hands and exchanged names. I told him I'm a quiet neighbor, "except you might hear me yelling at the 49ers games."
"We share a team!" he replied with a delighted laugh.
On Wednesday, I was locking the front door to leave for the day, with a plastic bucket full of dirty rags, a paper bag, my gym bag, and my purse all balanced. Down the stairs, in front of the building that mine faces, two boys--I'd guess about twelve or thirteen--were horsing around, as boys do, but quietly. One glanced up and said, "Do you need any help?"
"Oh, I've got it, but thanks!" I said, tickled that I seem to have some respectful kids nearby.
I see a lot of people walking small dogs around the complex, and all will return a smile and "hello." I've talked to a few and told them I'm new to the complex. I'm received warmly and welcomed in.
We come from all types of backgrounds, it seems--I've seen every age and shape and color, and it pleases me that the community is quiet and harmonious. There is 24/7 security as part of our HOA fees, to make sure no one is too loud, too dangerous, or parking in the wrong spot.
It's a nice community, with two pools--sparkling clean, with restrooms and showers--and spas. The landscaping is very nicely maintained (except, inexplicably, one tiny patch right in front of my building).
When I first came to see a unit, Kristin and I spoke to a resident who said she loves it, and gushed about how peaceful it is there. I think I'll enjoy living here.
|That's my unit (upstairs). The building was recently repainted|
|The view from my bedroom--trees. There's a water park nearby,|
but I only hear it when the windows are open, and only faintly.