My husband and I are looking for land to build a house somewhere north of the Twin Cities. We currently live at the cross-section of two 55-MPH county roads where noise from traffic and nuisance neighbors has increased. We're looking for a quiet sanctuary where we can eventually retire. Last week he sent me a Google Earth pin of 5 acres of property in a rural neighborhood about an hour north of the metro. I opened up the pin to see this in Google Earth: At first glance, it looks nice! There are existing trees to the south and east and plenty of space. Neighbors' houses aren't right next to one another. Could be the peaceful retreat we're looking for! Then I zoomed out. We've had enough negative experiences with several current neighbors riding noisy ATVs around the neighborhood that I always carefully examine the neighborhood around any property we're interested in. This, below, looks like our worst nightmare. We drove to the property to check it out and it looked idyllic. The neighborhood was very rural, there was a lot of vegetation, it was high ground, not wetland. Private, peaceful and quiet.
Then we drove by the property with all the dirt trails. It's important to note they own a tiny house and but have a huge pole building full of trucks. The trails had deep ruts - likely not from ATVs but from trucks and jeeps. Here's my worst case scenario: This neighbor regularly invites all his beer-swilling, redneck friends with their jacked-up 4-wheel drive vehicles and they go mudding around the property all weekend. Maybe there's a live band, speakers hooked up high on poles so everyone racing around in their trucks can hear it. They shoot off fireworks all night, tattooed women take off their tops, there's devil worshipping and a human sacrifice. Demons are summoned, dark thunderclouds roil overhead and Gozer arrives, unleashing Zuul and Vinz Clortho who rampage through the neighborhood, devouring everyone's small pets. Etc. Thank God for Google Earth. We could have made a horrible mistake.
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Sometimes my paranoia gets the best of me and I imagine my neighbors holding weekly meetings to schedule how they are going to annoy me.
These meetings would be led by the neighbor to our north, because she likes to control things and I imagine her telling the other neighbors her master's degree makes her the obvious choice to lead. These imagined weekly meetings would be to schedule noise nuisances and I picture them going something like this: Neighbor North: Now, of course I'm doing more than my share of the work by having my dogs outside barking all day, every day. So I need the rest of you to fill in time slots with your own special projects. Alcoholic Douchebag Neighbor: (taking a long swig of his MGD) I'm already planning to drive my Harley around the block multiple times this weekend. NN: Good, good. Needlessly revving the engine? ADN: Of course. Every time I pass by her house. NN: (rubbing hands together with glee) Perfect! How about you, Amy Arborgedden? AA: The kids and dogs will be outside all weekend. As you know, my youngest has only one volume. She'll be yelling as long as her little lungs will hold up. Which, I promise, is indefinitely. NN: Nice! How about you, Gray House Guy? GHG: I'll have my pet bird in his cage outside when it's not raining. NN: The one that screeches, "AFLAC!" over and over? GHG: That's the one. NN: Blue Dump Truck Neighbor, how about you, what will you be contributing to this weekend's Noise Fest? BDTN: I'll be pounding on my dump truck with a sledge hammer for no apparent reason whatsoever. NN: Oooh, delightful! How long? BDTN: All weekend. Alcoholic Douchebag Neighbor: Hey, I want to add something. NN: Of course! Highly encouraged. ADN: I'm going to mow. NN: ... Okaaaay. ADN: It's going to take me all day. I'm going to start/stop multiple times. You know how it takes most people about an hour to mow? I can stretch that shit out for hours. Days, even. NN: Oh, yes, I've noticed that if you're not on your Harley, four-wheeler, golf cart or using your leaf blower, you're typically mowing. We all admire your dedication to the cause, D-bag. ADN: (blushes humbly while taking another long swig on his MGD.) Neighbor from the SouthWest Enters, breathless: Sorry I'm late! NN: (Sniffs in annoyance) We were just about to adjourn, Southwest. SW: Sorry, I was just picking up my chainsaw from the shop. I've decided to take up chainsaw carving. I'm going to be working on a ten-foot replica of Mt. Rushmore this weekend. Everyone applauds, cheers and someone whistles between their fingers. NN: Great work everyone! Meeting adjourned. Every year my husband and I head up north with a few friends where we rent a cabin on one of Minnesota's many lakes. We spend a week boating, fishing, drinking and relaxing. Sometimes we visit local casinos and shops and there's always a trip or two to town for supplies. We've accrued many memories of our annual summer trips.
Two years ago, August 2016, we stayed on Girl Lake near the small town of Longville, MN. On one of our many trips to town, my friend Susie and I waited by the truck while our friend Mandy walked behind a gas station to dispose of fish guts. Within a minute, she was power-walking back to us, a bear cub behind her. "Is he following me?" She asked, her voice tense. Yes, indeed, he was following her, at an unhurried pace. As the bear came closer we realized he wasn't a bear, but a really shaggy, large dog. The dog came over to us and waited patiently as we each pet him. Susie looked at the tag hanging on his collar. "Bruno" was his name. After visiting with us, Bruno headed down the street. The three of us fretted - where's his owner, why was no one looking for him? Should we tell the local police? We watched Bruno walk with purpose as he disappeared around a corner. I posted his picture on Facebook and one of my friends responded with a link to a news story about Bruno. He was the town's most famous resident and we'd been lucky enough to meet him! Every day, Bruno trekked about 4 miles to town to make his rounds before heading home again. He greeted locals and tourists alike and was well known throughout the state of Minnesota. On Sunday, May 7, Bruno was struck by a car and killed. He'd been 15 years old, a long time for a dog. And a life he enjoyed on his terms, belonging not just to his owners but to the Longville community. Rest in peace, sweet Bruno. We'll always remember you. My mom and I were texting about the weather the other day and I asked her if they'd had rain recently. She said no and mentioned tornado warnings in a nearby town. (They live in Kansas.) Then she texted, "I HATE THIS TIME OF YEAR!!!"
I had to chuckle because she says that at least once a season:
During which season is she actually happy? Why doesn't she move out of that state, if it's so bad, every year, every season? Such passionate feelings about a situation surely require actions to resolve them, no? I use these conversations with my mom as lessons for myself to reflect on my own feelings, especially negative ones. Do I hate every season in Minnesota? Thankfully, no. I honestly dislike parts of Winter - the really cold days, the dangerously icy or snowy days that make commuting difficult. The length of the season. But the rest of the year, I love it here. If I didn't, if I had a reason to hate each season, I would like to think I'd take action, seek an alternative. Move instead of constantly complaining. Taking action is what I did when I hated my last job. I applied for over 140 jobs to get the hell out of that toxic situation. I didn't just stay and complain about it. I got out. When I was a reluctant participant in a writing partnership I'd never wanted, I bowed out when I realized the relationship was sucking the joy out of my life. I do complain a lot, as humans tend to do. But I try to be conscious about my choices and my happiness levels. I try to recognize if I'm just having a bad day or if I'm immersed in a situation I need to escape. I'm also working on finding ways to be more positive. Even if it's trying to find a tiny bit of good or amusement in a negative situation. For example, when a car was speeding past everyone on the highway, zipping from lane to lane, I thought to myself, "Well, at least he's using his turn signal when he swerves abruptly into the next lane. How courteous!" And sometimes, if it's an inescapable negative situation (waiting in line at the DMV, for example), the best we can do is find ways to amuse ourselves to bear through it. I realize I've posted a lot of critiques of real estate photos lately. I admit, it's quickly becoming a hobby. My husband and I are fixing up our own home to sell and searching real estate ads for homes or land, so naturally I keep stumbling upon these questionable real estate pictures. The next two photos are not questionable real estate photos but are of a typical new home construction. They represent very common designs available around the Twin Cities metro. And they have three features I really dislike. Let's look at the first photo. This home design is what I call, "Three Car Garage (with attached home)." The typical new constructions feature the garages so prominently and oh, yes, there's a house, too. The appeal of a home should be in the overall design, the front door/windows, the porch or landing. Not the garage. Garage doors are not attractive to me nor are they a selling point. Additionally, most of the Three Car Garage (with attached homes) are split levels. You walk in the front door and the first thing you see are stairs. A set going up to the main level and another leading to the basement.
Whatever happened to foyers? Bring back foyers! The next photo features my biggest pet peeve regarding new home construction in Minnesota. There's no deck. The deck is not included in the construction. If a new homeowner wants a deck, they have to get a contractor to build it or do it themselves. And many, many homeowners must not include the cost of a deck in their financing, and their home stands for years without one. A back door that opens to nothing but a fifteen foot free fall. So homeowners board up the back door to prevent their toddlers from tumbling out. I've never seen this zero-deck rule for new constructions in other states where I've lived. I just don't understand it. If you've read some of my previous posts, you know this about me:
I'm not an interior designer, but I work in an industry full of designers. As a byproduct, I'm developing my own basic set of aesthetics. The photo below is the wallpaper on my work computer. It's my happy place. I want a room like this in my future dream home. It will be where I relax, write, and commune with nature without allowing pesky Minnesota mosquitoes to interrupt my bliss. Minnesotans love to throw around the state's unofficial slogan "Minnesota Nice."
When I first moved to Minnesota, I thought, "It's true, they really are nice here!" And, on the surface, they are nice. They are polite, smile and nod in passing or talk to you about the weather or your car when at the gas pump. They'll hold doors open and make small talk when waiting in line. When you have something in common, they'll chat with you about that - for instance, when my daughter was in preschool, the other moms and I would talk about our kids, the school and even schedule play dates for our kids. Coworkers will invite you to lunch or happy hour and talk about work, partners, kids and so on. There's no shortage of pleasant, daily interactions available with Minnesotans. But I found it impossible to develop more meaningful relationships with these Minnesotans - the other moms, my coworkers. Even people with whom I had so much in common. I'd try inviting them lunch outside of work - say, on the weekend. Or to events like craft shows, or to see a movie. Their responses were alike - they begged off, other commitments, something with family, and so on. But thanked me for thinking of them. This happened so frequently - my inability to connect with all these nice people - that I began to suspect there was something about me that was not likable. What was I doing wrong? Was it my breath? But then I talked to a few other transplants to Minnesota and found out they had similar experiences. Even after years living in Minnesota, they had a huge circle of acquaintances but no close friends yet. So, it wasn't just me! I've finally made some friends here and it only took twenty years. Minnesotans are nice - they are pleasant, agreeable. But when it comes to more meaningful relationships and friendships, they truly are a standoffish bunch. |
About Sally FarleyI'm a typical, hardworking Midwesterner, enduring (and sometimes participating in) the passive-aggressive complexities of life in Minnesota. ArchivesLinksAsk a Manager
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