I just moved into a new house. The house is on a quiet culdesac in an upscale part of town. The nearest ethnic market where the centric ethnicity is not California new-age hippy is about 30 miles away. It scares me a little to live here, as I've not lived more than an arms-reach away from someone born on another continent since I was 16. I have over an acre and a half of my own space, and it appears that all my neighbors are somewhat elderly and probably born on this continent.
I was super happy to move in. The indoor-outdoor space feels like California. I have all the benefits of both climates here - I can feel the seasons change but the change isn't so bad to keep me indoors. (I was never one for indoor space anyway, and "bull-headed" might be a good descriptor. I remember having my brush to get the snow off the seat of my chair and burning a hole in the snow for my coffee cup back at Brown University). Anyway. The house has an excellent screened in porch and I can now sit outside in an enclosed area to do work even in a thunderstorm and without risk of multiple mosquito bites.
I was moving in, stack of boxes after stack, so tiring. An elderly gentleman from the neighborhood was walking his dog down at the bottom of the hill, and I waved and he waved. Yay, the neighbors are nice.
A few minutes later I walk outside to see a really stout little dog walking around my new garage. I'm a bit alarmed - I might have coolant out (I don't), there might be sharp things out (there aren't). Then the owner of the pup lumbers up. I don't remember his name, but if his little dog was supposed to be only 5 pounds and wound up 15 then they are a match made in heaven. Neither are fat, both are just low-built, with a lot of mass, and designed to move very heavy things very close to the ground probably over long distances. Kind of like me. If you ever need a second stonehenge, me and my kin are probably ready to help.
Anyway, the old dude comes all the way up my driveway, and starts talking. First he wants to find out if me and the guy helping me move in are married (we aren't). Then he wants to find out what we do. Are we related. Then he wants to tell me all about the neighbors. First of all, across the street is a couple where you can't tell the man from the woman because she's a bit strong. Then down the road is a couple where, "I'm not prejudiced" but a black man is living with a white woman and they have a kid. It's horrible he knows, but....
I can't even continue. I apparently live in a neighborhood where you should alert your neighbors if there's an interracial couple nearby. Especially if they have actually successfully reproduced. Ouch.
