Between you, me and the postman, I should have rang that doorbell when I had the chance. The shake shingle and stone cottage was a New England Classic. Any beady-eyed lingerer could see, 10805 Poppleton Avenue was the Real Deal Mystery disguised
Tag: Happy Hollow Country Club
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Early in the 1940s, racing “a murky sky between showers, five cars of Omahans, four to a car, went treasure hunting,” under the direction of Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Stocker. The Stocker couple, no doubt, enjoyed hosting themed parties, as was the
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Long ago I accompanied my grandmother on a magical visit to the Swanson Towers, off of 84th Street. 8405 Indian Hills Drive, for those among us who require exactness. My grandmother was paying a call to a rather chic galpal and truthfully, this
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You and I are obsessed with the look of a proper estate with tall creepers and twiner-covered wrought iron gates. Even typing this I tremble to think of the extravagance of it all. Just imagining having one’s morning coffee on a patina copper
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I spent one of the happiest mornings of recent memory lounged on a chaise of Mr. Cassette’s family lake house dock, watching. Turned toward the beach, I lazily gazed as Mr. Cassette was bending down over the sand, head hanging and with quick,
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Fellow detectives, many gathered here behind this darkened hedge are not members of the My Omaha Obsession’s Facebook page, which is fine with me. I understand. I am fortunate to have met you at all. As an aside, many of my favorite exchanges
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In my years of making the tour on Western Avenue, I had never seen a sign of life at 5429 Western, although it was plain she was very well looked after. All the same, having observed her for that amount of time, one would think one might catch a
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Imagine my delight when I spied one of my favorite Rockbrook Darlings had been put on the market just the other day. I will confess I have died a thousand deaths over this residence. In fact every time I indiscreetly slink past her in my
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One of the many pastimes Father and Mother of Miss Cassette encouraged while I was growing up was a love of reading in bed, right before lights out. Father of Miss Cassette would often cloister away and read during a weekend day or in the