Next Door
When we moved from Georgia to Texas we were welcomed by neighbors across the street with coffee, orange juice, and doughnuts. We learned they had four children, two of who matched two of our boys ages–and we had parties together and worked on our houses together. We all celebrated news of functioning bathrooms and repairs of roofs and new paint.
But next door lived a woman in what was once a lovely house. It had French doors leading to the front room, a carport and a wide front porch. Unfortunately she did not have the resources to maintain it and after three successive hurricanes with a large tree falling on the back area, it was deemed uninhabitable by the city. After many long months it was demolished this past week.
While it is sad to see the home gone, perhaps we will now have fewer raccoons and homeless people sleeping next door.
Sylvia Weir Art 