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The advantage of living at the top of the Kennebecasis river valley (my house is geographically at the highest point in the town) is that anywhere I could possibly want to bike to is downhill. The disadvantage is that no matter where I go, I always have to bike uphill to get home.

I’ve pretty much exhausted all the places in my direct neighbourhood without crossing one of either Grove, Hampton, or Marr Road, i.e. roads with traffic. But I have done a lot of exploring to places nearby that I’ve never been despite living here for a solid eighteen years.

I went down around some of the new streets coming off Highland Ave, which are all pretty sterile looking. On the opposite side of things, I also rode up and down parts of what I think used to be part of Fairvale. Thin, bumpy type roads, with twists and turns and pot holls — just the kind of thing every motorist loves. There were no fewer than ten people mowing lawns, and half a dozen dogs out for a walk.

My old elementary school doesn’t seem nearly as big anymore, and the secret paths through don’t seem so secret.

I found what may be my favourite house in town. It’s not one of the big fancy ones down on a riverside property, but nestled into the trees at the top of a hill. I’d be inclined to call it a cottage, since it’s only one story and too cute to be called a bungalow. Two big maple trees, one green and one that occasional dark purple, obscure most of the front but two little windows framed between brick walls peek through. Just right for an elderly couple it seems, just off the main street and next to a playground that reminds them of their children.

I like my neighbourhood.

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