Pamela is the grand inquisitor this week and she wants: Show me in pictures or tell me in words what defines the place that you live. The following is the start of a post I saved in draft, not knowing if I would ever use it, so I was partially ready, today:
Some of my readers may realize, and some may not, Bob and I live in a gated community. It's not only gated, it's for seniors. That means one of the residents must be at least 55 to live here. We move here 10 years ago, Bob was old enough, and I was only 54, so we could move in. The median age of the residents living in the 1600 single family homes is 62. It's a very active community and we really made the right decision, for us.
Here are some of the comments I've heard or overheard regarding living here:
Oh, our book group is going to your house, I be there. I always wanted to go to "the compound."
How often do they let you out.
How can you stand living with all these old people.
What do you do there?
The most frequent question both Bob and I get is:
Do you golf?
Neither of us golf, Bob thinks he might, if he gets too old to do other things. My favorite of the above is the first one about "visiting the compound".
The collage shows photos taken around my community during the past year. The women in the 2nd row, are part of the Tai Chi class I teach here. Since we live in Southern California, our weather is great about 300 out of 365 days a year. One of my favorite things is my garden, and here's a collage of photos from my back yard.
Here's a map that shows where we are. We're not on the coast, but inland and over the hills from U.S. Marine Corp's Camp Pendleton.
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