Directive 1:
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Where do you live? Describe your neighborhood and your home. Do you live in a big city or a small town or American suburbia? Who are your neighbors? How long have you lived there? What is your house/apartment like? Do you live in a big house or tiny apartment? Are you surrounded by concrete and asphalt or trees? Are you on the prairie or in the mountains?
Here is my response to Directive 1:
The United States is not a monolith. The physical and cultural features of America are diverse. So are its cities and towns and farms. There was a time in my life when I travelled 150,000 miles in one year. It was related to my husband’s work and we travelled with three small children four years of age and under. For most of that year, we did not have a place to live and we sometimes slept in a different town every night. As we travelled, I watched the houses and apartments we passed and wondered what life was like for the people who lived there. Often, I imagined that their situation had to be better than not to have a home at all, but I also knew that each home was probably filled with drama and happiness and, at times, suffering.
I now live in Richardson, Texas which was recently ranked as 11 of the 25 Best Cities to Live In. I have lived here for a little over one year. The neighborhood in Richardson where I now live is markedly different from the Richardson neighborhood where I lived until 2012. Richardson is near the city of Dallas. This area is part of the South and the Southwest. Its politics and culture are influenced by its location, weather, and history.
The neighborhood where I now live is quiet. I hear birds sing in the morning, airplanes fly over, the ice cream man’s tune, and cars drive past. What I don’t hear are dogs barking, loud music, people shouting, or construction. We can watch the squirrels play and climb the trees. We used to put out bird food for the birds, but the squirrels ate it all! We feed stray cats who come at night, but if they miss the meal a possum comes and eats the food. Once a raccoon paid us a visit to see if there were anything of interest to him. Reports of a cougar on the loose have appeared on the Nextdoor app for the general neighborhood.
The houses on this street were built in the mid-1950s. Ours is a 3-bedroom house with wood floors and a good-sized front and back yard. We live near a beautiful park where an art festival and other activities are held every year. Because we’re rent, I don’t feel free to fill the walls with the home decorations I used when we owned our own home so the house feels a bit barren and without character. My husband and I each have our own office and this is a major benefit for both of us. I have a place for most of my books, for my computer, and a place to think and write.
My neighbors are a mix of older white people and younger multicultural families. The neighbor to my left is elusive. Alas, I have seen him only once and that was before we rented this house. Since then, I have seen little evidence that anyone occupies the house (I hesitate to call it a home since there is no sign of life there). The yard is kept, but I have never seen anyone mow the lawn. Occasionally, something, like the small BBQ grill, in the back yard is moved. I’ve never seen a car parked in front of the house, but there is a detached garage that faces away from my view. One day, I heard some music emanate from the bedroom nearest my house, but never saw anyone and later the music stopped.
The neighbor to my left is a single woman who seems to spend most of her day taking care of her yard. She constantly walks past the window in my office as she comes and goes goes to and from her back yard. Other than an initial attempt to be friendly, she now avoids even looking my way when I get in or out of my car.
Our living room has a large picture window where I can watch the activity in the neighborhood. We live near the local high school and every day a parade of high school students walk past my windows on their way to and from school. This neighborhood is also home to many dog owners who daily walk their dogs past my house. These neighbors carry plastic baggies to remove their dog’s poop from our yard if their dog takes a fancy to the shaggy grass on our lawn.
This is a main thoroughfare that leads to the main road. Although it is a narrow road with cars parked on either side, there is constant traffic. I know when my immediate neighbors come or go, when they get a delivery from Fed Ex or when the city truck comes to pick up brush and other large items.
There is an empty house across the street that has not been sold or rented since the family who lived there moved out. It is a source of mystery to me. I wonder daily why the owner, who keeps the lawn mowed, has not put it up for sale or why it has not been rented.
One day some local children kept repeatedly rang the doorbell and then ran away one to watch my husband go to the door and look to see who was there. After several times, my husband saw the boys and spoke to them and told them to get their mother. He told their mother what the boys had done and each one was made to apologize.
This street has low crime although areas not far from here have problems with break-ins or stolen cars occasionally. Lots of pets escape and posters and notices on the Nextdoor app tell the sad tales of missing pets; sometimes there is notice of a pet found and a happy reunion.
The postman walks up the steps every day to put the mail in the mailbox; sometimes he comes twice a day. He to always come while I either watch tv or grade essays or both while I sit in a recliner. It probably appears to him that I sit there all day. Though I have never spoken to the postman, I feel that we are acquainted.
Door to door salespeople appear from time to time and the occasional religious person in search of converts leaves leaflets on the door. Since we have little interaction with our neighbors (I don’t know anyone’s name), it almost feels as though we live on an island.
I have moved house 34 times in my lifetime. I’ve lived in different states and one foreign country. I have lived in many different types of neighborhoods from posh to almost slum. I could tell many stories about the places I have lived from the time the pigs from the nearby pig farm escaped and ran amok in the Rossville Apartments, to the neighborhood where the Tennis Shoe Man broke into nearly every house in the neighborhood, but I will save those stories for another day.
Observations: These United States of America 