The Hill


Living on The Hill isn’t what I thought it would be. But I’ve learned to take the good with the bad. 

The wind is awful up here and, because it’s dry prairie, my allergies are worse than they have ever been. No one has anything in their yards because I learned the hard way that it all blows away after a while and therefore becomes someone else’s. 

Except the pets. And the shitty neighbours. They’re always around, annoying us respectful neighbours to the point where we’re telling their dogs to shut up and shooing their cats from our yards. 

We used to live in a crappy little neighbourhood with run-down houses and people who generally didn’t care about the community. Luckily, I had good neighbours on each side of me, but some of the others were questionable at best. I moved out of that neighbourhood to be closer to my sons friends and so he could play at the park without me worrying as much about freaks in the neighbourhood. 

I got my wish. My sons friends are close by, I always have a house full of kids, and the parents always know to text me if they can’t seem to find their children. My house is a wonderful zoo of activity now. And I love it. It’s so much fun to have a group of my sons friends to help me water my garden so they can reap the rewards to a carrot or some peas. It’s nice to have help baking cookies or cakes in the kitchen and the kids love the goodies that they’ve had a hand in making. 

But I’ve learned that, no matter where you go, shitty neighbours are in every neighbourhood. We’ve gained so much by moving and I’m glad I made that decision. But there’s assholes everywhere and you can’t seem to get away from them. 


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