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Meeting the Neighbors
We moved onto this street almost 15 years ago and, despite speaking to everyone on our street, there was one set of neighbors I had never met. It wasn’t that I was scared. On the contrary, they are the most peaceful neighbors I could hope to have! So, 2 1/2 weeks post gallbladder surgery, I…
We moved onto this street almost 15 years ago and, despite speaking to everyone on our street, there was one set of neighbors I had never met. It wasn’t that I was scared. On the contrary, they are the most peaceful neighbors I could hope to have!
So, 2 1/2 weeks post gallbladder surgery, I waited until my husband left for work (so he couldn’t say no or worry about my safety too much), donned my urban camouflage (I did so good-looking like a tweaker bum that when I got back my neighbor said he’d almost grabbed his gun when I walked by his house), and headed out. It turns out that between 7 am and 8 am is a great time to walk our neighborhood! The hookers have already gone home and the tweakers haven’t emerged yet!
Welcome to my neighbors’ house: San Joaquin Catholic Cemetery!
That was yesterday. Today, I walked for 2 1/2 hours and headed to the San Joaquin Rural Cemetery, since they are almost my neighbors (North of this one). I have always been creeped out by the Rural cemetery, even when I went there for the funeral of a friend in high school. I wanted to fight that fear and did but I wasn’t triumphant. That cemetery (the oldest in Stockton) feels sad. I may have to put off any more walking for a bit.
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