Welcome to
MargeauLand
There's So Much Happening Here...
Your Guide to Local Living & Real Estate
Margeau Gilbert
Welcome to MargeauLand – Where You Don't Have to Live in the Neighborhood to Be Part of the Community
MargeauLand is more than just a website—it’s a gathering place for community, connection, and support. Whether you're looking for local businesses in Bowie, MD, community resources, or hidden gems across Prince George’s County, you’ll find them all here.We believe in the power of shopping local, uplifting small businesses, and celebrating the people who make our neighborhoods thrive. Whether you’re a longtime resident or new to the area, MargeauLand is your go-to source for discovering local shops, services, and stories that matter.
What You'll Find in MargeauLand
• Spotlight on Local Businesses – Discover amazing small businesses, from cozy coffee shops to unique boutiques, all in Bowie and beyond.
• Community Features & Stories – Get inspired by the people making a difference in our neighborhoods.
• Insider Tips & Recommendations – Find the best places to eat, shop, and explore, handpicked for locals, by locals.
Why MargeauLand?
Because community is bigger than a zip code! MargeauLand was built on the belief that you don’t have to live in a neighborhood to be part of it. Here, everyone is welcome.
Looking for even more local connections? Beyond the Neighborhood, my community newsletter, brings these stories to life—because we’re all neighbors at heart. Join us as we highlight the heart and soul of Bowie, Prince George’s County and beyond. Whether you’re looking to support small businesses, find local events, or just connect with your community, you’re in the right place.
Explore MargeauLand today and be part of something bigger.
MargeauLand Podcast
The Day I Became the Neighborhood Historian
I didn’t expect it. But I suppose none of us do.
One afternoon, a neighbor knocked on my door asking if I remembered the name of the old bakery that used to sit where the new smoothie place is now. I laughed, rattled off not only the name, but the owner's daughter, their holiday pies, and the exact shade of green that storefront used to be.
And just like that—I realized: I’d become the neighborhood historian.
It wasn’t an official title. Nobody hands you a plaque. But somehow, over time, you become the person who remembers who used to live in that blue house, what the park looked like before the new trail, and when the city finally repaved that one street that ate tires for breakfast.
There’s something sacred about being the one who remembers. Not because you're old—but because you stayed. You noticed. You cared.
In neighborhoods like ours, it’s easy to get swept up in what’s next—new construction, new faces, new everything. But community isn’t just built with plans and permits. It’s built with stories. With people who say, “I remember when…”
So if you’re the one who holds the memory, lean in. Share it. Pass it on. Our neighborhoods need anchors just as much as they need change.
So my fellow gray hairs, let your lovelight shine! You might be the reason someone else feels at home.
P.S. Next week marks the fifth edition of my monthly community newsletter, “Beyond the Neighborhood.” If you’ve been meaning to check it out—now’s a great time. It’s all about people, place, and the heart of what makes community work.
The Day I Became the Neighborhood Historian
I didn’t expect it. But I suppose none of us do.
One afternoon, a neighbor knocked on my door asking if I remembered the name of the old bakery that used to sit where the new smoothie place is now. I laughed, rattled off not only the name, but the owner's daughter, their holiday pies, and the exact shade of green that storefront used to be.
And just like that—I realized: I’d become the neighborhood historian.
It wasn’t an official title. Nobody hands you a plaque. But somehow, over time, you become the person who remembers who used to live in that blue house, what the park looked like before the new trail, and when the city finally repaved that one street that ate tires for breakfast.
There’s something sacred about being the one who remembers. Not because you're old—but because you stayed. You noticed. You cared.
In neighborhoods like ours, it’s easy to get swept up in what’s next—new construction, new faces, new everything. But community isn’t just built with plans and permits. It’s built with stories. With people who say, “I remember when…”
So if you’re the one who holds the memory, lean in. Share it. Pass it on. Our neighborhoods need anchors just as much as they need change.
So my fellow gray hairs, let your lovelight shine! You might be the reason someone else feels at home.
P.S. Next week marks the fifth edition of my monthly community newsletter, “Beyond the Neighborhood.” If you’ve been meaning to check it out—now’s a great time. It’s all about people, place, and the heart of what makes community work.
MargeauLand is a FREE community initiative to help locals get to know each other and encourage everyone to shop local!
Apply to have your business interviewed and featured on the podcast for free!
MargeauLand Blogs
The Day I Became the Neighborhood Historian
I didn’t expect it. But I suppose none of us do.
One afternoon, a neighbor knocked on my door asking if I remembered the name of the old bakery that used to sit where the new smoothie place is now. I laughed, rattled off not only the name, but the owner's daughter, their holiday pies, and the exact shade of green that storefront used to be.
And just like that—I realized: I’d become the neighborhood historian.
It wasn’t an official title. Nobody hands you a plaque. But somehow, over time, you become the person who remembers who used to live in that blue house, what the park looked like before the new trail, and when the city finally repaved that one street that ate tires for breakfast.
There’s something sacred about being the one who remembers. Not because you're old—but because you stayed. You noticed. You cared.
In neighborhoods like ours, it’s easy to get swept up in what’s next—new construction, new faces, new everything. But community isn’t just built with plans and permits. It’s built with stories. With people who say, “I remember when…”
So if you’re the one who holds the memory, lean in. Share it. Pass it on. Our neighborhoods need anchors just as much as they need change.
So my fellow gray hairs, let your lovelight shine! You might be the reason someone else feels at home.
P.S. Next week marks the fifth edition of my monthly community newsletter, “Beyond the Neighborhood.” If you’ve been meaning to check it out—now’s a great time. It’s all about people, place, and the heart of what makes community work.
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Bowie/Mitchellville
Contact Info
Address
8222 Schultz Rd, Clinton
Phone
(240) 462-1955
sold2settle@gmail.com
Location
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