When I decided to out my naked neighbor on my blog only a week ago, I thought this was a problem that I was going to have to live with or address. After moving in a couple of months ago, up went paper blinds on twenty-four windows, leaving four naked windows where he sat naked at his computer every night. Intentional?
On Friday morning, May 23rd, I opened my curtains and immediately laughed. I cheered. I clapped my hands. I jumped up and down. I called my husband. I could not believe it. There were four more paper shades! The “naked” problem resolved itself. The reflection in his window is my window.
I’ve never met my neighbor, so I doubt he read my blog and thought: “Oh no, I didn’t think anyone could see me in the glow of my laptop”. Have I been making a concentrated effort to let him know I can see into his windows from my kitchen? Maybe, a little. But only during the day when he is fully clothed.
I don’t make a habit of peeking in my neighbors windows. It is just that our neighborhood is considered “urban-like”, even though I live in suburbia. Urban-like in this context means lots of condos and townhomes in a development where you can walk to shopping and restaurants, thereby lessening your carbon footprint.
I have lived in a city, and there is nothing urban about my neighborhood, as much as they want to sell it that way. What it really means is that they can pack more homes on less land, and the developers make more money, while trying to get us to feel good about our choice to live greener and help the planet. The HOA still poisons our beautiful park and common areas with fertilizers and pesticides.
I could go on for days about lawns that look like golf courses. I’m convinced that is where this whole hatred for weeds started. We used to pull them out by hand or use a trowel to remove crabgrass. Fireflies used to light up the night. Butterflies used to brighten the days. Frogs used to croak. Crickets used to sing. Ladybugs were red with black spots, not brown. Native plants and species were not being wiped out by poisons and the introduction of non-native plants and insects.
I go off on tangents when I speak; not just when I write. Sometimes, I don’t make it back around to where I started, but since I am writing, it is easier to keep track of what I was saying in the first place.
Twenty-eight feet from my kitchen windows, there are paper blinds. Now we can sit on our balcony in the evenings without fear. We can enjoy our home again. And this photo makes me realize it is past time to put something in that planter.
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