I don't live in the greatest neighborhood.

The apartment complex has an association and contracts with someone to mow the lawn and keep things neat. A lot of people keep little gardens in the front and several of us have plants and flowers on our balconies. Sounds pretty nice right?

Well most of the surrounding properties are not kept up to the same standard. There is the group of teenagers that live across the street. I'm not surprised to see garbage on their lawn once a week. Next door is the little old lady with the purple stairs and about 80 wind chimes hanging from her lopsided porch. The streets near by are filled with little houses that once were cute but have seen better days. Not the richest neighborhood in town - you get the picture.

Anyway, last night around 9:30 all hell breaks loose in the hood. Tires screeching and brakes squealing and crashes and bangs and bumps in the night. I started to think I was going to sleepin' in the bathtub last night.

As suddenly as it started it was gone. All was quiet on the the western front. I lay awake for a little while but eventually fell asleep to the whisper of a fan blowing in the corner and the lawn mower purring outside...

oh, and the old time country music floating up from downstairs and the occasional motorcycle that roared by.

I'm really liking Kalispell and this job and I'm learning a few lessons. One is that home isn't always where you grew up. And sometimes moving away can actually bring people closer.