Neighbors, Pt 2.

Not only does Indiana play John Mayer/hip-hop/house music at unfortunate times, they also like to BBQ.  Not with natural gas, or propane or charcoal- but with wood.  Our upstairs (because we have to leave the windows open for that fresh ocean breeze that allegedly supplants A/C) now smells like a forest fire.

And now, I can add cigarette smoke because they have company that sits in the backyard and smokes.  Which finds its way through our windows and our top floor.

I think I need to live in the middle of an acre where I don't have to look at people if I don't want to.

NOW I know why my folks live over an hour's commute from their work, up in the foothills of the Rockies in a log house.  Now I get it.