Saying goodbye to good neighbors is tough. Saying goodbye to my neighbors is...well...weird. You see, my house backs to a cemetery and the cemetery is moving. Yes...all 1500 graves...moving. When we bought this house, it didn't bother use that a cemetery was in our backyard. Quiet neighbors! We thought we were safe from building and development. WRONG!
Here is the overhead view of the property. You can see the lovely circular design of the cemetery. My house backs right up to all that geometric splendor. It almost looks like a crop circle.
Here is the overhead view of the property. You can see the lovely circular design of the cemetery. My house backs right up to all that geometric splendor. It almost looks like a crop circle.
We first heard about moving the cemetery this winter and it has moved quickly. It is mainly nuns from the Sisters of St. Joseph Order buried there. So I guess with no kids or grand kids to complain about the move, off they went!
There was a closing ceremony that the kids watched from the fence. The attendees carried banners, rang bells, sang songs and said some prayers. Everyone there seemed fine with the idea of the big move. So who were we to complain? What would be the use of complaining? It's not our property.
Then the black tarp went up and the backhoes started working. I have spared you the pictures of that! Needless to say, it has been a weird summer in our house. The blinds remain closed and the curtains drawn, just in case. I would hate for the kids to see something that would scar them for life. The work starts early in the morning so there has been little sleeping in for the kids this summer. BUMMER for mom!
So, we say goodbye to our neighbors. The quiet neighbors. The good neighbors. The neighbors that have never caused a problem. We will miss the beautiful headstones and statues, the nuns (living ones) that take walks out back and always smile and wave. We will miss the "park" we had in the yard because we know someday it will be replaced with something not nearly as lovely. RIP