Writings about real estate and all things “home,” by our Kindred SF Homes associates.
Reading time: 2 minutes
In case nobody told you, San Francisco can be quite windy. With all that sun and fog and fresh ocean air comes a bracing breeze that ebbs and flows like the tides of the bay. Here is Kindred associate Lisa Riddle’s take on its effect on homeowners.
“The wind, the wind, the wind blows high…” ~ English folk song
Do the neighbors on my block really eat that many bags of Doritos Nacho Cheese Tortilla chips?
Judging from the empty snack size bags in my front yard I would have to say “yes!”
What about all of the used Band-Aids? Are the folks next door really that accident prone? Seems so!
Are the various bits of trash that wrap themselves around my flowers and shrubs telling me a story about the people that live on my block? Or is the howling wind that blows through my neighborhood sharing the secrets from homes located blocks away?
Some weeks there seems to be an inordinate number of soda cans in the rosemary bushes. Other times, it’s as if an entire box of dryer sheets exploded in the roses. The tires of my car are often draped with the paper that cradles deli sandwiches. When I look closely at my planter boxes, I find colorful bits of candy wrappers disguising themselves as new flower blooms and used Kleenex blanketing the ground cover as if trying to keep it warm.
It’s worse on trash day, although not nearly as interesting. The obvious mess from trash cans being dumped mechanically in the wind is just that – a big mess. It lacks the mystery of “Did the deli just run a special on mustardy sandwiches?” Or “Is my culinary-school-student neighbor not getting the hang of her knife skills?” And, “WHO is eating all those Doritos?”
It’s part of city living and I gave up long ago trying to pick up every piece of garbage. I DO on occasion break out a pair of rubber gloves and attempt to prune the stubborn accumulation – you know – the bits that either won’t blow away with the next wind, refuse to biodegrade or just don’t do a good job hiding themselves.
I always feel a little guilty: It’s like pulling weeds. You know they don’t belong, but you have to admire their determination.
