We've stumbled into an interesting land. The natives are tidy, organized, and decidely more funky than one might have expected given the northern clime. Friendly? You betcha! To date, we've received mysterious lawn-mowing and trashcan-moving, not to mention offers of tool loans, assurances of vigilance, and useful advice at every turn. To say it's far superior to my previous homeownership experience is an understatement of mammoth proportions.

It's called Quail Hollow Garden Homes, a small part of what seems to be called "Gracywoods," although I've never seen that on a map. It has an HOA that is voluntary, although the fees are laughably small. It seems we've landed right next door to the first family of the area, an active and very nice couple who I believe have repeatedly been our benefactors. Most recently, they've helped rid us of about 10 gallons of taupe paint left in the front closet by our predecessors; eat your heart out, craigslist!

The move finally concluded yesterday, with the arrival of the last few objet d'art from the old place. We'll be dropping off the keys this weekend, closing the books on the treetop living era of our lives. Important yardwork is ahead, and although I have the tools for it, we're planning to do the bourgeious thing and get someone to do the mowing and edging for us. That, I hope will keep our lawn in line with our more industrious neighbors, and allow me to play with the fun parts of having a yard, instead of the boring parts.

I promise my next post will be about something besides the move. Really.

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