by Freida Marie Crump
Greetings from the Ridge.
"Herb, look at this computer screen. That’s our house."
"How can you tell?"
"Look at the roof. We’ve got the oldest shingles in the neighborhood.
Might as well pack it up and move to Canada, sweetheart. This is the final straw."
"It’s just the government, Freida. They don’t care a thing about what our roof looks like."
"It’s just the government? I