A couple of years ago, when my mother-in-law passed away, my husband and I talked about selling our house and moving into hers. It’s half the size, but it was paid for, and I could quit teaching and be a full-time writer.
Two reasons we decided against it. One, my sun room. I love love love my sun room. And two, my neighborhood.
Since I’ve started walking again this summer, I’ve redeveloped an appreciation of my neighborhood. The neighborhood was built in the early 1950s, so it’s a lot of ranch-style houses on big lots, wide streets and lots of big trees. If you’ve seen the movie, THE HELP, the more “modern” houses are just like houses in this neighborhood. (The one where they build a bathroom on the back porch for the maid? That could have been filmed in this neighborhood.)
We have great yards, which inspire me to come work in mine, and yards that don’t get taken care of at all. There are people, like me, who give it a try but it doesn’t quite translate.
I see the occasional cat, but never any loose dogs. When you do see loose dogs, you know they’ve slipped out, as Stormy has been known to do on occasion.
There is always SOMEONE out–jogging, walking, riding bikes. I saw a guy mowing before 7:30 this morning. Yes, it’ll be hot later, but I’m sure his neighbors did NOT appreciate that.
We live in a flight path, but it doesn’t bother me. I love seeing the planes flying over and wondering where people are going.
We are right behind the church where we got married, and I love hearing the church bells at noon and 6.
What about you? Do you love your neighborhood? What do you love about it?