Block · one region of the page, as the scanner read it. It may hold a whole story, part of one, several, or an advertisement; stitching blocks into articles is the next step. Text is supplied OCR.
Page 8 · column 4 of 9 · from the scan, no model involved
Wasn’t Cheap
Lord knows it wasn’t cheap. Despite its expanse of countryside. Northern Virginia is perhaps best known for having the highest priced rural real estate in the nation. But you knew that.
West Virginia is just too far to commute to that threeday-a-week consulting job inside the Beltway. If you wanted country, this was the place. And Oh, how you wanted it.
Inner city life had been exciting for a young couple on their speedy climb to relative affluence. Theater, movies, restaurants, people, action, sports events, it was all there.
You didn’t need to drive your own car much. Public transportation was available and if you felt flush you could take a cab.
But this type of living had a darker side. Muggings were' not limited to high crime neighborhoods. Even Embassy Row had street crime.
Locksmiths were in demand and your house began to resemble a high security wing at a state prison. The wail of sirens filled the night air and police blue and whites ripped up and down the streets on missions of grim reality more often than you would have liked.
Landlords and neighbors frowned on pets, and the kids were wild for a puppy. An imperious Siamese cat was no substitute. A city townhouse was no place for a large Labrador or a grinning red setter. And who wanted a miniature anything, subject to psychosis, neurosis, and all the other high-rpiced, city dwelling canine disorders?
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