I love my neighborhood. All my life, through no plan of my own, I’ve moved around a lot. I’ve lived at 1880 the longest.
This is a very eclectic neighborhood, built mostly in the 1930’s and ’40’s with no guidelines or restrictions, we have lots and houses of all sizes. Most have detached garages that are on the alleys. Some of these are now modest rentals. Apparently, this is perfectly fine.
We even have some tiny houses:
Having moved here from a community where there were restrictions on everything from paint colors, to building a deck too near a property line, or adding a room that blocked a neighbor’s view, I found this a bit shocking.
A friend lives in this colorful house on my street:
I would call that face-powder pink and deep lilac. I would welcome some guidelines, on occasion.
And this monstrosity is presently going up on a small lot where formerly sat a modest house, lived in for decades by the present owners’ great- grandparents:
It blocks the mountain views and sunshine of neighbors who had enjoyed it for all those decades.
To make the small lot large enough for the new house, this $100,000 retaining wall was necessary. This would never happen in my community to the south. Restrictions are not all bad.
And I suppose this neighbor is well within her rights to “decorate” her front porch anyway she pleases. Good lord! Sometimes I miss the days when I had the Hillsborough police on speed dial!
But I do love this neighborhood and plan to stay forever. When I first moved here, there were no children, and the former local primary school had become a day-care center for children who were bused in from across town. It seemed that young families preferred the new tacky-tackies in the sprawling outskirts.
I thought it was pretty silly a few years ago when this pre-school-age-appropriate playground was installed at our neighborhood park and the former wading pool became a splash pad.
Well, if you build it, they will come!
Now there are seven children just on my block between nine and newborn. And their parents are beautifully restoring some of our wonderful old houses.
Ellen died two years ago, so now I am the old woman on the block. I miss Ellen.
Her house is now beautifully restored an inhabited by dear new friends, Burt and Katja and Farris and Mathilda.
If you build it, they will come. Here is good — and it just gets better.