This morning, life in Foster Village is heavenly. It is cool and breezy, the dog next door isn’t barking, and the neighbor’s loud air conditioner is not blaring. I wish it were like this all the time.
Lisa just came home after camping over night in Laie. I asked her how she liked it. She said, “Those stupid roosters woke me up with their crowing at 5 a.m. Never again! I guess I am not a camping person!”
Poor Lisa. She is very sensitive to noise of any kind. Recently, she plugged the gap under her bedroom door with a pair of old trousers, because a cricket had gotten into her room and “chirped” all night. How a cricket entered the house is anybody’s guess, but that would be like asking how lizards, roaches, and ants got in, too. Of course, we could eradicate these pests by tenting and fumigating the whole house, but eventually, more would find their way in, so what would be the point?
At any rate, we won’t be selling our home in the suburb to move to the country. Why trade one set of noise for another?
P.S. Check out my letter to the editor regarding rapid transit:
