On the Horizon: A Marine’s Love Story

follow link

https://penielenv.com/y0aychh5bl My experience with doing stories with war veterans is those who have seen the most, talk the least. I think there are some memories they had just rather forget.

source Put Charles Migliorino in that category. It was only by chance I heard his story. He was interviewing for an associate district judge appointment, and I was a member of the Judicial Nominating Commission interviewing him. It was after the interview was over, he added, almost as epilogue, the thing he was most proud of in life was letting a sister hear her dead brother’s voice for the first time in 40 years.

https://alldayelectrician.com/f92eostrd I was fascinated, as I think you will be in this week’s video blog, with this Marine’s Love Story.
Rob McClendon

Whistle While You Work…or Cook!

https://www.brigantesenglishwalks.com/1jeslxxzm42

https://www.mbtn.net/?p=863k24bn Well, the summer nights are over in Oklahoma and with the onset of freezing temperatures comes…work! Monday evening of this week hubby and I realized we had just a few short nights to finish completely cleaning out our garden. I think our conversation went something like this:

https://getdarker.com/editorial/articles/6a3c4isbo Mick: “I think it’s going to freeze Friday or Saturday night. Or both.”

click Me: “That’s good. I’m ready for cooler weather. Wait…when? Wait…Holy Toledo, MICK, we need to clean out the garden!!”

get link Mick: “Okay, we can do that tomorrow.”

follow url Me: “TOMORROW!?? We need to start now!”

Tramadol Sverige Online Mick: “Okay, it’s already dark outside, and it’s 9:45 p.m., but if you want to get started go right ahead. Otherwise, I’ll help you tomorrow.”

https://lpgventures.com/3eh5o56v Me: “Tomorrow sounds great.”

https://guelph-real-estate.ca/i02y1n6s First came jalapeno evening where we picked, cleaned and processed a gallon of fresh jalapenos and 19 half-pints of pickled jalapenos while watching the last presidential debate.

Next came the tomatoes…

https://www.marineetstamp.com/c6f4aozne  

click We experienced a “barely-freeze” two weeks ago and my tomato vines turned brown, but the actual tomatoes were fine! So we picked a couple of gallons of grape tomatoes and yellow cherry tomatoes. They’re still waiting to be processed in our nice cool garage.

enter I also found one carrot, we cut the pumpkin blossoms, and we found about fifty tiny basil plants that were coming up from seed. I potted about ten baby basil plants and brought them inside. Right now they look pretty happy. I’m not telling them about all their other siblings I sacrificed during last night’s freeze. I can hardly bear to think about it, much less tell their family. Cripes! Continue reading Whistle While You Work…or Cook!

On the Horizon: Home in the Heartland

Purchase Tramadol Discount

follow link I work with a lot of soon to be college graduates, so I often find myself dispensing a fair amount of advice; none of it sage, but most of it time proven. One thing I find myself telling these students as they are about to embark on the great adventure of life is this: A lot of places can be home.

click here Here in Oklahoma we live in a culture that puts a lot of value on land; having our own spread, broken fence and all. Which may be the reason we are a little late in the urban living game.

https://getdarker.com/editorial/articles/9zbos009a3 It is remarkable the renaissance downtown Oklahoma City has experienced in the last decade. A place that was a virtual ghost town after 5 p.m. in the early 90’s is bustling these days 24/7; restaurants, movie theaters, sports teams, and a growing number of residences. People who are trading in their wide open spaces for an apartment up in the sky. In this week’s video blog, I look at the trend of urban living in OKC and see how an eclectic group of Oklahomans are turning a business district into a mixed use neighborhood. Hope to see you this Sunday at 3pm on OETA when we examine where we live and why.
Rob McClendon

Canning Peppers and Watching the Debate

https://lpgventures.com/x8yzfjeynw6

Cheap Tramadol Overnight

Tramadol Legal To Buy Online Mick and I worked together on cleaning the peppers, prepping them for canning, and garnering all the jars and lids we could muster. It was going to be a big job tonight.

Tramadol Pay With Mastercard Obama and Romney said frequently during the debate tonight that, “We’re on the same page.” They also agreed that foreign policy is a complex task, garnering all the professionals and delegates they can muster. They looked like they had prepped for what was quite a big job tonight.

go site My peppers are beautiful. A grand mixture of red and green, crammed with salt, vinegar water and garlic cloves into glistening jars with shiny rings. They’re now rattling and rattling in the pressure cooker.

https://guelph-real-estate.ca/uh0199me Obama and Romney look nice in their suits, their ties a grand mixture of red and blue. Their faces are covered with makeup and their shirts are starched. They’re now rattling and rattling in quite a pressure cooker.

https://www.brigantesenglishwalks.com/lyza5nx7cg In fifteen minutes, I’ll pull the first five of my eleven jars from the pressure cooker. I’ll be waiting for that glorious “ping” when I know the jars are sealed and ready to be packed away. I’m already looking forward to the first trip to the pantry when I can open a jar for some meal that needs a spicy, vinegary topping…a feast most of the men (and some women) in my family really enjoy.

Best Tramadol Online In twenty minutes, the final debate of three presidential and one vice-presidential contests will be completed. The pundits will put their seal of approval, disapproval or neutrality on the event with a ping or a zinger. I’m already looking forward to the day when the debates are behind us, the election is over, and I can begin to think about our country in a way that I’m used to doing…with a new administration, trying to problem solve and implement policy the best they know how. Some of that policy might be a feast; most of it will probably be famine as we trim our budget and hack away the deficit. Some of it might be a very bitter pill to swallow. But my family will be with me, we’ll get through it, and I hope the whole nation will be better very soon for whatever it is that we need to take…or give.

https://www.mreavoice.org/1hogqhb

On the Horizon: Heart of the Community

https://paradiseperformingartscenter.com/vy5aoss26i

https://www.marineetstamp.com/4o42of07hw For centuries, a community’s downtown has been the heart of the city. With unique shops and restaurants populating the area, downtown offers its citizens and visitors a taste of the community.

follow url Studies show that if a downtown is prosperous so is the community. Growing up in a tiny community, I was able to see our town go from struggling to vibrant. The reason for the change was our community decided to focus on our main street area. Now people can find unique shops, restaurants and a lot of culture.
In today’s video blog, we take a look at how Stillwater, OK, is focusing on revitalizing its downtown area. From apartments above shops to one-of-a-kind restaurants, the downtown district is getting a makeover.
Andy Barth

On the Horizon: Education Funding

https://alldayelectrician.com/ot1ve0zfb

source link I had the chance to sit in on a meeting with educators and legislators at the state capital and quite frankly, I learned quite a bit about our state’s education system.

click Interim Sessions are held each Fall at the state capital and they are done in order to help legislators gain a deeper understanding of the issues that are facing Oklahoma. I didn’t realize there was concern between higher education and CareerTech centers and the problems their students are facing. Now that I have witnessed the discussion and have done my research I can see that a change needs to be made in order to give these students a more even playing field when entering into the workforce.

Buy Arrow Tramadol Take a look at this video blog to get a better understanding of the issue at hand.
Kela Kelln

Rachel’s Little Winter Victory Garden

Tramadol Online Prices

https://dcinematools.com/f6e065d

We stood in her backyard, surveying the fence line.  Which side got the most sun, or the least? Where would the shade be too much for young plants? What would the soil prove to be worth when we dug under the Bermuda grass?

The answers to these questions came to my daughter and I over the first thirty minutes of our work this evening.  We were starting her yard with a winter garden.  Depending upon the weather, some vegetables like lettuces, spinach or green onions could grow through much of the winter.

When we turned over the first shovel-full of soil, we found a nice dark color, three worms and a couple of rolly pollies.  And we smiled.  In my head, I thought: “It’s wick.  She’s got something to help get her started…it won’t be all from scratch.”

Four bags each of composted manure and cottonseed hull mulch, several bags of seeds, and a good deal of work later, Rachel’s garden is well on its way.  I have a feeling it will be cleared out, built up, seeded and tucked in before you know it.  After all, she is my kid…and her grandparents’ grandchild.

Happy gardening, Rachel.  I promise you…you’re about to witness miracles.

***

excerpt from the Secret Garden

Mistress Mary put her hand on his arm again without knowing it.

“Will there be roses?” she whispered. “Can you tell? I thought perhaps they were all dead.”

“Eh! No! Not them–not all of ’em!” he answered. “Look here!”

He stepped over to the nearest tree–an old, old one with gray lichen all over its bark, but upholding a curtain of tangled sprays and branches. He took a thick knife out of his Pocket and opened one of its blades.

“There’s lots o’ dead wood as ought to be cut out,” he said. “An’ there’s a lot o’ old wood, but it made some new last year. This here’s a new bit,” and he touched a shoot which looked brownish green instead of hard, dry gray. Mary touched it herself in an eager, reverent way.

“That one?” she said. “Is that one quite alive quite?”

Dickon curved his wide smiling mouth.

“It’s as wick as you or me,” he said; and Mary remembered that Martha had told her that “wick” meant “alive” or “lively.”

“I’m glad it’s wick!” she cried out in her whisper. “I want them all to be wick. Let us go round the garden and count how many wick ones there are.”

She quite panted with eagerness, and Dickon was as eager as she was. They went from tree to tree and from bush to bush. Dickon carried his knife in his hand and showed her things which she thought wonderful.

“They’ve run wild,” he said, “but th’ strongest ones has fair thrived on it. The delicatest ones has died out, but th’ others has growed an’ growed, an’ spread an’ spread, till they’s a wonder. See here!” and he pulled down a thick gray, dry-looking branch. “A body might think this was dead wood, but I don’t believe it is–down to th’ root. I’ll cut it low down an’ see.”

He knelt and with his knife cut the lifeless-looking branch through, not far above the earth.

“There!” he said exultantly. “I told thee so. There’s green in that wood yet. Look at it.”

Mary was down on her knees before he spoke, gazing with all her might.

“When it looks a bit greenish an’ juicy like that, it’s wick,” he explained. “When th’ inside is dry an’ breaks easy, like this here piece I’ve cut off, it’s done for. There’s a big root here as all this live wood sprung out of, an’ if th’ old wood’s cut off an’ it’s dug round, and took care of there’ll be–” he stopped and lifted his face to look up at the climbing and hanging sprays above him–“there’ll be a fountain o’ roses here this summer.”

They went from bush to bush and from tree to tree. He was very strong and clever with his knife and knew how to cut the dry and dead wood away, and could tell when an unpromising bough or twig had still green life in it. In the course of half an hour Mary thought she could tell too, and when he cut through a lifeless-looking branch she would cry out joyfully under her breath when she caught sight of the least shade of moist green. The spade, and hoe, and fork were very useful. He showed her how to use the fork while he dug about roots with the spade and stirred the earth and let the air in.

They were working industriously round one of the biggest standard roses when he caught sight of something which made him utter an exclamation of surprise.

“Why!” he cried, pointing to the grass a few feet away. “Who did that there?”

It was one of Mary’s own little clearings round the pale green points.

“I did it,” said Mary.

“Why, I thought tha’ didn’t know nothin’ about gardenin’,” he exclaimed.

“I don’t,” she answered, “but they were so little, and the grass was so thick and strong, and they looked as if they had no room to breathe. So I made a place for them. I don’t even know what they are.”

One Thousand Blessings – The RDC Sends Out Our 1000th Post

Yesterday when I was sending out my “Starbucks line standing” post, I noticed that we had just hit number “one thousand”… one thousand posts since the RDC was started 2.5 years ago.

1,000 posts, almost 225,000 visits, about 500,000 words and about 18 different contributors over that time period = wow!

I’m not sure how many t-shirts we’ve given away, or how many messages we’ve posted or answered on FB.  I’m not sure how many Tweets have gone out, or how many times the information or essays on our blog have been shared, or ridiculed…we just can’t know.

What we can know, however, is that the mission of the RDC – – to write about Oklahoma culture – – is made better because of you.

Thanks readers and our RDC community.  Even when we’ve waxed and waned with family commitment, school, failed experiments, and sometimes just really cool stories, we have always appreciated you.

Take care –

Red Dirt Kelly, and the RDC Contributor Team from day one until now

The Human Tolerance Thresholds for Starbucks Lines in the Morning

image

As a social researcher, I observe as much of my surroundings as possible.  If I notice a pattern that raises a question in my mind, I start testing it when I have the time.  If my pilot tests begin to pan out, then I spend some intentional time on the same question for a cross-sectional, qualitative investigation.

Such is the case with Starbucks lines in the morning.  Having spent many a day at the back of the line, I’ve been privy to comments such as, “Oh Holy Mother of ____, this line is too long…never mind…” or, “Hey, not bad.  I think I’ve got time to wait.”

Some of the funniest people to me are those whose body language clearly shows conflict between the need for a coffee fix and their next obligation.  I’ve actually seen people almost spin in place – stop, hesitate, mutter to themselves, turn back around…and eventually make a decision.  Sometimes their decision is reversed in the middle of the line.  I’ve even seen a “struggler” decide to stay, then get through half the line, then decide to leave, THEN come back and ask the person she was standing next to if she could have her place back.

Having already observed this line-length tolerance threshold pattern and conducted a few pilot tests, I’ve been using this past two weeks as my actual cross-sectional study.  For this post I’ve included five Starbucks stores in the mornings: 2 in a hotel, 2 in a southern regional airport, and one in a north central regional airport.  Here are my findings:

The range of persons standing in line in these collective sites ranges from 8 to 26.  The shorter lines (8 and 9) were in hotel establishments, the longer lines (15, 19 and 26) were in airport sites.  The tolerance level on length of line seems to be positively correlated with the actual amount of space available.  For example, the areas within the hotels were smaller, one was cramped, and people were in very close proximity.  The line in the Atlanta airport was long, had families and strollers camped out (see my two photos) along the way, and there was no “self-negotiation” going on at the end.  It appeared that people could clearly Continue reading The Human Tolerance Thresholds for Starbucks Lines in the Morning

Here is Exactly How it Is…That “Student Getting Into Your Heart” Thing

Somewhere over the Arkansas-Louisiana border at 40,000 feet I was startled out of my daydreaming state by an announcement coming over the cabin microphone: “Kelly from Edmond? Would you please turn on your call light?”

“Cripes,” I thought to myself.  Then I said it aloud. “Cripes!  I probably dropped my wallet or something.”  I was talking half to myself and half to an OSU student I had met who had lots of questions about flying.  She was sitting across the aisle from me grinning.  “Um…” I started.  Then I made eye contact with the flight attendant who was standing in the first class section and waved weakly.  “Here I am…”  My voice trailed off.  I felt like a child.

The flight attendant saw me, smiled way bigger than should have fit a wallet-losing scenario, and began making her way down the aisle.  When she reached me, she held out her hand and offered me a piece of paper that looked like airline-logo-stuff.  “Here you go,” she said.  “The people in seats one and two sent these to you as their compliments.”

I turned the paper over.  Printed on the back were two coupons, good for a snack or a drink.  I glanced up at her, “Um. Well, thanks!  Can I buy a ‘hug coupon’ from you and send it their way??”  She smiled and returned to the front.

The gift was from the parents of a former drama student of mine I taught approximately 18 years ago.  However, he wasn’t just any student.  This was one of those students who wrestled his way into my heart no matter how hard I tried to keep the door shut. He was brilliant, mischievous (okay, he was a real brat), in trouble constantly, and to this day I still hear from him about once a year. As I fidgeted with the coupons, my thoughts drifted backward…

I allowed him to borrow my car once because his was blocked in and I needed someone to pick up pizza for our set construction day.  He did.  He wanted to do something nice for me.  So, he drove my car five miles further than I expected, filled up my gas tank with his father’s credit card, then drove away with the gas line and pump still attached to my car.  This was before they had “break-away” hoses, so he pulled the entire pump over, and my insurance paid out a $6800 settlement six months later.  A week after that, the gas station closed it’s doors.  Go figure.

This same kid attended at least three of my children’s birthday parties, made a brief showing at my daughter’s wedding, came by for my younger daughter’s high school graduation party, and dressed up as a gumball machine for one particular party when they were younger.  He tied a 55 gallon translucent garbage bag around his knees, filled it with all colors of inflated balloons, then taped the top around his neck. Oh, and two days after my hysterectomy I was lying on my couch at home recovering when he and his new bride stopped their “get away limo,” ran into my house, and gave me a hug in their wedding clothes before leaving for their honeymoon.

This is the same kid that stole the 6-foot blue hippo from a car wash on Broadway in Edmond, Continue reading Here is Exactly How it Is…That “Student Getting Into Your Heart” Thing

On the Horizon: Lower Taxes – At What Cost?

Politics have always interested me. Whenever a major piece of legislation is on the books, I try to stay involved and apprised of the situation. This year, a bill is heading to the people about Ad Valorem Tax. It will have differing affects on education and agriculture. I have been involved in agriculture my whole life. With my wife studying to be a teacher, I’m torn about what to think.

In this week’s video blog, we take a look at the different impacts this piece of legislation could have on the two industries and speak with two people who both advocate for rural Oklahoma, but have differing views of this bill.
Andy Barth

Simple Ideas: Apple Cider with a Breath of Rosemary

A serene view helps the cider be that much better.

This morning’s walk to the Intellegentsia coffee house was interrupted by the Chicago marathon.  Everywhere we tried to walk, our path was blocked with thousands of runners being cheered on my a supportive crowd, offering an endless supply of water cups.  Dance music filled the air to add another layer of, “You can DO it!” attitude to the environment.

So we made a contingency plan, and I’m so glad we did.  Our detour led us to one of the first locations my children had tried during our vacation:  GrahamWich, a Graham Elliot restaurant that offered a light breakfast menu and was right around the corner.  The quiche with Swiss cheese was delightful, and the crust especially flaky and tender.

But the apple cider was amazing.  I took a second sip.  Again, the tangy freshness sat with my taste buds but I couldn’t really distinguish any special notes. “Must be the apples,” I thought.  No, the third sip revealed the secret.  On the back of my palate, right before I was tempted with another bit of quiche I found it: rosemary.  Notes of rosemary danced across my tongue, and I smiled. Continue reading Simple Ideas: Apple Cider with a Breath of Rosemary

My Little Victory Garden: Rustic Baked Hen Legs with White Toscana Poached Pears

Sometimes I think I should change the title of “My Little Victory Garden” posts to “Scrappy Cooking.”  Indeed, the theme is most often: do what you can with what you have.

So this week I once again looked in my freezer for forgotten protein and found…a bulk pack of 14 chicken legs I had purchased on sale for $5.00.  “Okay,” I thought.  “There’s my main dish.  Next, check the garden.”  I couldn’t find my rosemary.  My little plant is only 6″ tall and has been completely swallowed up by my massive pumpkin plant.

Therefore, I used my neighbor’s rosemary.  She had borrowed an egg earlier that day.  I have dibs on her tomatillos she was growing with the seeds I had given her (I pulled my plant up because I thought it was a weed!).  And she’s used my Anaheim and jalapeno peppers no less than six times this summer…okay, you get the drift.  We’re ingredient swappers.  I’ll cherish her forever.

After walking into the house I noticed fruit flies had already started swarming around the lovely D’Anjou pears my parents brought me from Tuttle so I quickly settled on a complementary dish of poached pears and…there! In the back of my refrigerator was a crisp, medium dry bottle of white Toscana (Italian wine from the Tuscany area) taking up space.  I think it has been in there for at least six weeks.  And…that was all I needed to finish my entrée.

If you’d like to cook with me, I’ll share the simple recipe I concocted.  Here we go:

First, mix 1/2 c. olive oil and 1/3 c. balsamic vinegar with 1/2 T. sea salt, 3-4 thinly sliced cloves of garlic, ground pepper to cover the top of the liquid, and one 5″ twig of rosemary.  Strip the rosemary from the twig and mince most of it, careful not to include the tough portions that attached to the twig.  I put in about 25% of my rosemary whole for a pretty look on the baked poultry.

Whisk the marinade together, then put the 7 hen legs plus the marinade in a gallon bag.  Shake, and leave overnight…or AT LEAST for 1.5 hours.

When you’re ready to bake the chicken, arrange in a pan and pour remaining marinade over the meat.  Bake at 375 for 1:15 or 400 for 1 hour.  The skin should be pulling away and darker brown when the meat is done.

While the chicken is roasting it will then be time to poach your pears.  I used all the pears that were ripe and tender, meaning: six.  Therefore, you could probably use about one pear for every two or three chicken legs.

I hardly ever peel my fruit (apologies to all the purists) because I just like to eat pears and apples with the peelings ON…it makes me think I’ve not sacrificed all the vitamins to the compost gods.  So, I destemmed and deseeded my pears then sliced them thinly and as evenly as possible.  It’s important that you try to match the size and density of your slices as closely as possible so they will finish at the same time.

Once the pears were prepped, I skinned and diced one large shallot.  I then sautéed the shallot in about 2.5-3 Tablespoons of butter, until the edges were just turning brown and it had softened nicely.

Next I added the pears and tossed them with the leftover butter, then added about 2/3rd’s bottle of white, med-dry wine to the pan and raised the temperature until the mixture began to simmer.  I added two sprigs of rosemary to the mixture, 1/3 c. sugar, and two slices of lemon and let the mixture cook the pears for about 30 minutes, until the fruit was nicely tender.  I then scooped out all the fruit (as well as the rosemary sprigs) into a bowl and reduced the liquid until a just slightly-thick sauce appeared.

When your chicken is about five minutes from being done, gently place the pears back into the reduction and warm up the mixture.  After you’ve pulled the chicken from the oven, arrange nicely on a platter and dish the poached pears across the top of your meat.

I would suggest serving with some good bread, a mixture of crisp greens and perhaps a side of purple roasted potatoes or a squash medley as your side.  Therefore, your starch, hot, cold, crisp, sweet and savory are all balanced.  Have some chilled Toscana left?  Then you know EXACTLY what to serve with the meal!

One note – the savory/sweet pears are not all that good cold (the shallot & rosemary flavor is a strange combination right out of the refrigerator), so if you’re going to have leftovers, make sure and warm the pears.

I’m glad I had a few moments this evening to share my recipe with you.  How about you?  Have you picked any pears?  Any if so, how have you prepared them?

Take care…Kelly

Your Personal DNA Mask: Are You Ready for the Big Reveal?

The level of “masking” in the information age is multi-dimensional. 

While personal banking was historically done in person, masks of account numbers and usernames have replaced much of the monetary transactional processes. 

Redditors are known for vehemently guarding the masks behind which their users are cloaked while simultaneously defending the right of free speech. They agree to trust the process of letting their members work out moral and ethical questions as well as decide what is truly funny or agree when an egregious wrong needs to be corrected.

Surveys are now done through links and promises of confidentiality rather than delivered to mailboxes with requests to use return envelopes. News reporting has now (mostly) perfected the computer voice change software so that interviews done with shadow profiles and deep voices lend a mask to what otherwise the interviewee just couldn’t bear to reveal.

And now?  In what seems like the blink of an eye, scientists at the Human Genome Project have gone from embarking upon their massive task to completing the identification of approximately 30K genes and potentially “3 billion chemical base pairs” that make up human DNA.

This process has raised a plethora of new “mask-type” questions: How do we approach fairness in the use of information? What are the psychological and/or stigmatizations of any gene-based revelations? What about laws, patents, commerce, reproductive rights, validity, reliability, mistakes?…The list of questions is seemingly as long as the double helix models embedded in every science classroom across the country.

But what are the answers?  And, what is the answer for YOU?

In just a short period of time, you’ve now been given the opportunity to find out just where the propensity of your historical and/ancestral DNA was derived.  In other words, you can now find out from where you’ve come.  By lifting this mask, thousands of people have now revealed the answers to some of their deepest questions…only to find more.  Or, to find out answers that others wish had remained hidden.

But soon, the “thousand dollar personalized DNA testing” package may become another reality for you. You may now be able to find out where you are going.

Do you want to know what traits you carry and how your genetic makeup is either vulnerable to various diseases or reveals strengths of which you had not have been aware?  Do you want to see your information on an app where you can search through result after result and look up corresponding information? 

Do you want one of your most personalized masks to be removed?  Are you willing to fork over one thousand dollars to pull it off?  What if it were free?  What if it were collected and stored into a national database?  What if you find out something you would really rather never, ever know?

I would imagine that when humans remove a mask…any mask…that decision is preceeded with some degree of anxiety.  Even if that anxiety is only based in thoughts such as, “I wonder if my hair is now messed up or my mascara smeared?” But there is a national, perhaps even world-wide, anxiety about what the removal of our personal DNA mask means.  And it may be time for you to think your opinions through…before someone removes that mask without your permission.

So, are you prepared for the “big reveal?”

***

Photo used by permission from ChaTo’s Flickr Account

On the Horizon: Senior Co Housing

Being young and still in college, I never really sat down and thought about where I want to live my life after retirement. Of course a lot of things come to mind when I start to paint the picture of myself in 30 plus years but after covering this particular story I now have a clearer idea of where I would like to see myself.
I love people, I am fiercely independent and I really enjoy having my own space. With all of this being said co-housing sounds like the perfect solution. The houses in this community are smaller but honestly after talking with the residents it makes sense to make them smaller because they have no need for a larger home. They refer to their homes as being “right-sized” and that’s exactly what they are. Not only are they the right size but they are also very well thought out in layout and design.
Take a look at this video and see for yourself just how awesome this fun new community is!

Kela Kelln
& nbsp;