Barbara J. Hamby

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Home, Sweet? Home

Some places I have lived in are more interesting than others. Like the Chinese saying, “May you live in interesting times,” which may seem like a curse, living in interesting places isn’t always a blessing.

I suppose, for my memoirs to be complete, I need at least a chapter, if not a whole anthology of stories about places where I’ve lived. But, I don’t have time for that now. The place where I live today has enough unusual characters, among the few people I know here, to fill several pages.

Among mobile home parks for residents over 55, there are many idiosyncracies in common. Occupants learn to accept frequent visits of emergency vehicles for medical crises. Grandchildren appear infrequently, but sometimes noisily. Pets, unaware of park rules, aren’t always well behaved and some of their owners could care less.

We live on a corner lot, so there is only one neighbor nearby. There is a walkway between our back yard and the yard of the neighbor behind us that puts quite some distance between us. The lady who lives in that house, rarely steps outside. She hasn’t been there long and I have yet to meet her. My neighbor across the street is a sweet little old gal I’ve written about before.

The closest neighbor, of indeterminate age, possibly even under the 55 minimum age limit, creates the most problems. Grass and small bushes are growing out of his roof gutters. He has at least two dogs in his manufactured home that bark when he is gone and have been tearing up window coverings and screens that are visible. What else they might be doing inside I can only imagine. He burns smelly fuel in his woodstove, and always has a lighted cigarette in his face, as does his female housemate. Occasionally loud rock music vibrates the walls well into the night, or even the early a.m. The last few days, some teenyboppers have been running in and out and their music blares until after midnight.

I won’t rant about the management, but that is a whole ‘nother story, and it ain’t a romance. I’ll save that for another time. Suffice it to say, that my past experience with park managers has convinced me that no sane person would want the job. Enough said.

But think how bored I’d be if I lived in a normal environment.