So I found myself loathing my neighbors upstairs a few nights ago.

Alexis and I moved house a few months ago to the other side of “downtown Belchertown”. We moved from being in a nice duplex to a semi-apartment-complex. We are in a first floor apartment in a square house with four apartments, two on the first floor and two on the second floor. There are three such houses in a row here, making for a total of 12 apartments.

It’s a different environment than the one we got used to over the past year - last year we had a large two-floor apartment that was one-half of a quiet duplex on a quiet cul-de-sac. Our neighbors were a great young family - a UMass professor, his wife, and their two adorable kids aged 3 and 1.5.

We loved our neighbors - it was quite easy actually - and we met with them regularly. They became good friends whom we still meet with weekly.

We miss them

Now, don’t get me wrong - we are trying to get to know our neighbors at our new place too… but…

Well, I’m learning just how much distance there is between all my big words about living recklessly in community and actually, you know, like, living in community.
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