December 29, 2010
The Open House
Like most neighborhoods in central Florida, mine is comprised of a mix of young families and retirees.
I've heard mixed reviews about the snowbirds; they have a reputation for sitting on their front lawns with radar guns and clocking your speed as you drive down the street.
All of the ones that I have met so far, however, remind me of my grandma...which is a good thing.
Today a group of painters came to my new house to fix a couple holes in the drywall and remove a 12 x 12 foot map of the world that the previous owners had super glued to a bedroom wall.
By lunchtime, the poor guys were pulling their hair out. Four hours had past and they had only removed Australia.
I told them I would buy them lunch. I left the garage doors open when I left.
When I got back to the house a half hour later, several senior citizens were standing on my driveway. They waved as I pulled up.
"You've got a lot of work to do in there," one whistled.
"Why are you taking that map down?" asked another. "Don't you like maps?"
"I like the tile in your kitchen," said a third.
I just stood there with my mouth hanging open.
"I feel violated," I told my husband when he came home from work.
"You like going through other people's houses too," he pointed out.
"I didn't invite them!" I cried. In my mind, there is a big difference between a realtor's open house and trespassing.
"Welcome to Florida," he replied.