The other day, I said a word with my neighbor. Immediately about it. However, when I got home, I remembered how much the neighborhood had changed and that it was changing for a century.
We live in a riverside Heights north of the downtown tampa. Ten years ago, the city emptied an unused alley after the residents who wanted to apply for extra space for the city council. Freebie brought catch. Housing owners on both sides must maintain half of the alleys. Everything went well until the new neighbors entered, and Junk began flying on the fence. Pipe and wood, wood branches, shelves, dog wooden frames, you name it. Therefore, a walk to the neighbor.
He apologized and thought it would be okay to dump on the alley as a rural boy. He thought that junk pile was related to fence rats. He felt he was losing his audience and immediately offered to pick up confusion. Don’t worry, I told him: everything is complete. I am just ahead of the code execution. By the way, your Christmas light looked wonderful.
Four of the five Americans live in cities or suburbs. To live in every environment, you sometimes need footwork. In recent years, I have learned to be a good defense in recent years, as the neighborhood has attracted new residents, larger houses, more transportation, and changing the rhythm and flavor of everyday life, as many as Tampa Bays.
The man on the alley is okay. He walked and thanked him for complaining to his face. However, what cannot be seen beyond his property line is a sad comment on the status of the group’s actions. Another neighbor uses a leaf blower to throw the garden waste on the next private road. The clown on the street fires a bottle rocket with a turkey vultures, so that these federal protected birds do not poo in his hut. Recently, the residents have tapped the sign of “no parking”, which is not a park anyway. These are minor if you are bothering your head. At the same time, they form the atmosphere of the neighborhood that has lost their connection.
In all changes that occur in our lives, there is nothing more noticeable as what we have returned every night. I bought a house in 1998. The riverside height has become quiet. There was a collection of bungalows, cottages, the Mediterranean, and strange FOULPLEX here and there. A small house was perfect for many widows and many couples without children who could pass by in a single bathroom. You saw the children here in Halloween. Parents beyond the river track them for candy. The Primus Park had an oil drum for trash cans, very empty, and people smoked the pot along the wooden line during the sunshine.
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Today, the old house has fallen like a domino, giving ways to a proof of comfort, a concrete industry, a two -story building and a three -story mansion. Some new houses are beautiful, accepting original architecture along the river, and is built with scale, craftsmanship, and high quality materials. However, others are glorious garages and PAENS for the design belonging to the dark side of the moon. Primus Park can be overrun with a golf cart in a teen -out dog.
I had a hard time relieving this neighborhood. However, when I got home from a man on the alley, I got a viewpoint. The growth of this area may have been attempted, but a new life is blowing into the height of the river. Mornin Granner once crowded on a blank street. In the evening, the parade of a young couple pushes the stroller into the riverbank. Primus Park hosts hundreds of children and their families at the Halloween block party. The park has a real trash can, there is a liner where cities gather, and the old pot smoking area has a concert and a free market Saturday. A few years ago, a Labrado dedle entered.
Our house is just 100. The same porch as we sitting every night was standing through Great Passion, World War I, the landing of the moon, and the first black US president’s election. On the way, there are still inventions that are still used, from frozen foods, television, polio vaccine, masking tape, and smartphones. If my house can speak, it may be said that the change is continuing, and the reversal of the riverside Heights is doing what is being done all the time. I think it’s enough, I guess, anything else will fly on the fence.
