The Skeeter Daddle Diaries

Another of our neighbors is selling out, pulling up stakes and heading somewhere more hospitable. Had enough of the Homeowner Association’s prolonged battles, I figure, or maybe just the upcoming water fees, bulkhead repairs and endless surprise expenditures, sort of the trouble with Paradise. The Garden of Eden needs maintenance, the No Trespassing signs need upkeep along with the fences and the barb wire, plus all the weed mitigation, blackberry removal and trail improvements. It isn’t just Adam and Eve, it’s a whole passel of folks with different socio-economic backgrounds, some who think money is water and others who bleed it.

Story of the neighborhood near the end of the half century we’ve lived here. Houses by us run about a million dollars minimum. The one next to us across the ravine fetched a cool 2.1 million, sold in one hour, cash on the barrelhead. I’ve thought about cashing in, take the money and run, go where land is cheap, live the life of Riley somewhere less crowded, no HOA’s, way fewer neighbors, greener grass. Or no grass at all.

Adam and Eve might’ve had that same itch. Tired of all the covenants, the rules and regs, the don’t eat this don’t eat that, do what you’re told and you’ll get along just fine with the landlord. Course they couldn’t just throw up a For Sale by Owner sign, cash in and parlay the loot for another parcel up the road. Paradise is hard to replace for the same price, much less leave without even the clothes on your back. Folks used to do it though, call it the American Myth. Tell the boss, the landlord, the government or the King of England to go to hell, hit the road and don’t look back. You can only take so much.

My neighbor’s had enough. I know he didn’t want to leave. He’d set roots, landscaped his place, remodeled his castle and fell in love with the island. Personally I’m going to miss him. I hope he finds another South End. Hopefully there are still a few left.

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