this is beautiful. Also, slightly long-ish, so I won't be bothered if you don't read it. Also, this is a really nice article and reflection on what it's like to have/have lived with a porch. Do you think we will ever be happy without a porch again?
Our House, Our Friends Sometimes referred to as members of the Hot Chocolate House, sometimes the Bauhaus. All we do is sit on our porch, burn incense, and grow herbs. We're harmless, really. Oh, and we're really good spectators and thus, started this blog.
The Wife Beater to the Right He beats his wife, the police come, he resolves his problems by smoking pot. He is the reason behind the drug busts although he is not the real problem.
The Social Worker Husband Abuser Just because she's a social worker doesn't mean she can't verbally abuse her husband. Always wearing work out clothes to make sure she's on top of her game.
The Druggies Across the Street We're not exactly sure how many live there because they come and go. Frequently seeing passing deals and yelling about bad ones on their front lawn. Not very good about being secretive about what they do. One day their house will blow up due to a meth lab mishap explosion.
The Racist Creep to the Left He recently moved, leaving behind an apartment that had to be quarantined from filth. Although he has a suspected mail-order-bride from China, he was still extremely racist, had lots of guns, was from Georgia, and threatened to shoot the next non-white person to come on our street. Too bad about half our house is not white.
The Cute Mormon Couple Living with the Druggies I just really don't think they knew what they were getting into. I know it's hard to find married housing here in Provo, but really, maybe try harder before you get blown up too.
