A community can be a wonderful thing. We live in a gated community of about 100 units. Many of them are used as second homes and are only occupied during “the season”. These seasonal residents are a different breed. Getting to know the permanent residents is the goal.
To that end we have an HOA board. There is a quirky old lady, wife of the board president, who fancies herself as the social director. Events are held at the clubhouse, but generally only “in season.” She was once a transient part timer and old habits die hard. She is no use to us full timers We nicknamed her Mrs. Bucket from “Keeping up appearance”.
The story here ends with a cocktail party that lasts till 1:30 am.
Elections were held for a new board member and we voted for a young man we met at the Democratic Election Night Watch Party for Kamala Harris (Hyacinth Bucket didn’t plan this one she’s Canadian) Kamala didn’t win and later neither did our man on the board. We’ll call him Dave for this tale.
We need to go back a little and provide some history. Let’s go back when we moved in 4 years ago. Our building has six units and are single story. The first unit on Willow Lake Drive belongs to Dorothy. She welcomed us on our first day with a bottle of champagne. She told us she influenced the previous owners, asking them to accept our offer. She was thrilled to have two gay men move into the complex being a bi/lesbian herself.
A few months later we had two gays and there mother move in two doors down. We call them the “young gays”, Cameron and Cody. Then the place right next door was up for sale two years ago and we encouraged a nice gay man from New York to purchase it, Philippe, he’s French Canadian. That was it we are now known as Rainbow Ridge.
There are other LGBTQ+ residents throughout the place but we are the biggest cluster on top of a small hill near the entrance.
The other two residents in our building are not family, per say, but a divorced mother and here 16 year old boy live in one. The are very friendly and supportive.
That leaves one unit on the far end. He and his wife are Trumpster flag flying Republicans. We avoid them. So far they have kept to themselves.
Okay, so one more thing there is a man in his late eighties who knows everything and everyone. He is the town gossip and goes around picking fruit from the various citrus trees in the park and leases some on the top of our mailboxes. We call him the “fruit fairy”, Myles. Oh, and he always has a story to tell. Part gossip and then he finishes with a dirty joke. He never blushes but we cringe sometimes. Interestingly enough he used to rent the end unit from the Trumpster before they kicked him out to live there themselves.
He now rents from the man’s sister on the other side of Willow Lake Drive. Willow Lake circles the community with several culdesacs that fill in the middle along with the ponds and streams, the clubhouse and 3 swimming pools.
All of this background and my post has gotten lengthy. I will continue tomorrow with Dave and the cocktail party. Cheers!
Life Beyond the Casinos 
