Full Disclosure: 174 South Ave.

Things don’t always go as planned and sometimes it is hard to go with the flow when thrown off course. Since I take comfort in the general predictability of my everyday routine (not in a twitchy, OCD kind of way) making adjustments can be jarring. No one likes drastic change of plans, construction detours, or even soup of the day, but we manage. When it comes to change around New Canaan, especially with regard to its architectural landscape, many townspeople, like me, are resistant. That is why I am eager to keep our town looking quaint and historic.

Full Disclosure: Summer, It’s Not About Me

Do you know why New Canaan is spelled with three ‘A’s? It’s to account for the high concentration of Type ‘A’ personalities that have settled in our small, idyllic village. 

Yet it seems that even the most high-strung New Canaanites have embraced summer, or fled town entirely. In fact, I would like to report a mass evacu-cation and thank most of New Canaan for skipping town to enjoy summer elsewhere. 

During the seasonal mass exodus, some of us enjoy VIP parking along Elm Street and exceptional personal service-with-a-smile wherever we go. I even saw a benevolent parking enforcement officer let an infraction go—now, if that isn’t a harbinger of good things to come, then I don’t know what is. 

One could get used to this ease of everyday life in New Canaan. However, I am still wound as tight as ever trying to figure out my summer rhythm.

Full Disclosure: Revenge of the Nerds

I am not a fan of putting labels on people. However, after watching all eight seasons of “Games of Thrones,” I see how some carry weight. I, Susan of House Gelvin, First of Her Name, Breaker of Appliances and Protector of Retail Shopping, could get used to this kind of name-calling. The label I particularly dislike is ‘nerd.’ Yet I am surrounded by many self-proclaimed nerds who wear the label as a badge of honor. To me, the term insults those who are dedicated to intellectual pursuits.

Full Disclosure: A Cautionary Tale

Our doorbell has been out of commission for months and it has not phased me one bit. 

Fully embracing my inner shut-in, I am not at all anxious that I have missed any truly important visitors, like the angelic Girl Scout cookie peddlers or an unannounced Oprah ambush. I may have even avoided uncomfortable interactions with dreaded door-to-door salesfolk, wandering environmentalists and the occasional drive-by serial killer. 

Weeks ago, Aquarion Water Company must have come a’calling—and since I am visitor-proof, they left an urgent notice on our doorknob. By the way, nothing says *urgent* like a white luggage tag on the front door. I was instructed to contact the company immediately regarding a water leak on our property. 

Most people would have called Aquarion pronto to get to the bottom of the bad news. Instead, I decided to marinate in the information and torment myself with a visual loop of worst-case scenarios.