I’m loving living in Nashua, but. …

Who knew that Ward 8 was actually a tropical rainforest? Having moved here in March, no one warned us of the deafening nightly frog concert to which we would be treated.

Treated might be too kind. They begin warming up before sunset and wrap things up around midnight. Or later if it’s raining. And they keep me awake. For a while, they took up residence in the small pool of stagnant water that collects in the low point of the pool cover. I will be evicting them when the “cee-ment” pond is finally opened this week.

Also, real estate agents never alerted us to the fact the very steep hill we live on would be the rendezvous point for Nashua’s driving school cars. This is where students learn that pointing the wheels the wrong way while parking could result in someone rolling into my pool. “Bueller!!” I suppose that’s one way to displace those mouthy little amphibians.

I forgot to ask if my street goes from being a driver’s ed track to a slick winter Olympic luge run every four years. I can already envision a pile of cars at the bottom of the gulch, sliding down from both directions, careening out of control while wiping out mailboxes and recycling bins every other Friday.

I love my new Nashua neighborhood, but. …

We got deeper accumulations of pollen than winter snow this year. Even though lady Baba’s car was dark blue when we bought it years ago, I’ve kind of liked it in yellow this spring. The contributing bees decided her car’s air filter made for a nice honey comb, so if anyone would like some free honey, just pop the hood and help yourself.

I’m not complaining. Everyone likes a healthy product made by nature’s little workers. When I lived in Northvale, New Jersey, no one was especially fond of the choking cologne pollution spewed from the nearby factory that made English Leather. I only put up with it because I liked their product slogans, such as, “If you grandfather hadn’t worn it, you wouldn’t be here.” I’m not sure it was as effective as the ad agency claimed. As proof, I offer exhibit A, your Honor. My dad was an Old Spice guy who fathered seven children.

Our Ward 8 jungle includes a small family of hornets that selected my mailbox to raise their young. I actually welcome their residency. I’ve successfully trained these insects to buzz the mail truck if my route carrier is dumping too much junk mail in the mailbox. Just this week, he was persuaded to leave the Bed Bath and Beyond postcard in my neighbor’s box. Good job boys. Tomorrow, keep an eye out for a Pottery Barn flyer.

I love my Nashua house, but. …

I live downhill from the massive municipal water storage tanks. Pressure is so strong my kitchen sprayer looks like a dancing cobra when I turn it on as the croaking frogs laugh behind my back.

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