Sunday's deep thoughts

The honey and I are looking for a new house.  Don't get me wrong, I love our house.  It's over 100 years old, it has hardwood floors, lovely woodwork, a nice layout, and a pretty good sized back yard.  It's a nice house.  It also happens to be in a high crime area of the city.  It's kind of a long story how we ended up here.  But suffice to say, the honey and I had never had to call 911 in our lives before we moved in.  Now we don't even flinch when we have to do so. 

It's sad because there are a lot of memories here.  The honey proposed to me in the kitchen.  The Captain (note bene, from here on out, Baby boy is going to be referred to as The Captain) took his first steps here.  I confused the kitty with The Captain.  But, long story short, I don't think this is a place to raise a child. 

Every time I take The Captain for a walk, I get comments from my neighbors.  They are mostly flattering, such as "You taken?"  Or, "Where's your man?"  I usually respond to such sallies with a smile, and an, "I'm married".  In other circumstances, I think I'd be flattered?  In these, I somehow feel like I ought to hurry home and lock the door. 

There's always trash.  Everywhere.  Trash in the streets.  Trash on the yards.  I try to keep it picked up in front of our house.  The local schools are un-good.  Our garage has been broken in to, a bullet has come through our tv room window, and we've had a shoot out down the street.  Twice.

So we are thinking quite seriously of moving.  I still believe that in about 10 years this area will be lovely.  There are enough hardworking good folks around that will make it so.  The honey and I just don't have ten years to wait.