It's so different here, just 2 miles south of our house, and even in the same city. It's older, busier, bustlier, no hint of Brady-Bunch suburban sterility, more people walking around, more activity in all directions. It appeals to the urban side of me, indelible from my childhood. Yet our rental house is on a nice quiet cul-de-sac, with big rustling trees, and super, super nice neighbors, all of whom speak English so far. Our next-door neighbors are retirees who've lived there for 42 years, since the house was built, and they have a granddaughter who's a month older than Katrina. Today they offered their phone number in case we ever needed any help with the kids!
Did we make a mistake? Should we have moved instead of remodel? I've never liked our neighborhood, a great one by most measures, but not "neighborhood-y" enough for me.
Well, there's a reason we didn't end up closer to a downtown to begin with: the house. After a lot of house-hunting in 1999, I chucked the checklist, thinking it all came down to three major items: the house, the location, and the lot. Of those, we'd be lucky to get two out of three.
At the time, I lumped "neighborhood" in with "location," and now I see those two things separately. Our "old" location is great -- close to highways and businesses I like, but I've never been crazy about the neighborhood. Our "new" location is amidst a neighborhood I like better, but it's located near a busy traffic-choked road and adds 10 minutes to every trip to my usual spots. A run at Rancho now means a 20-minute drive each way. I think neighborhood is more important to me than location...or is it? The complexity of getting out of Willow Glen made me hesitant to move there, though I absolutely love the neighborhoods there.
But of those three -- maybe four -- major items, it really comes down to the house. We love our house. And nice big houses with big yards aren't near downtowns -- apparently for all my urban upbringing, I really did want to be in the suburbs.
Dave and I made good use of our child-free time today, making some major decisions such as a front entry door and flooring. Our door will be based on this one, but with a sidelight and more glass, 'cause I don't want to have to stand on tiptoe to look out my own front door!
After our shopping spree, we picked up our little crew. I was so glad to see them again, but the feeling wasn't mutual. Katrina was crying and fussy, Julian whiny and complaining that he wanted to stay at Melissa's, Gabriel varying between giggle-pesty and indifferent.
We took them to the "old" house to check it out. Now all the flooring has been torn up, and we found out some fascinating things about our house. What we've been calling the "sun room" probably was a porch, as the original fir floor was painted.
Our office used to have a bay window, until the corners on either side were filled in during some-or-other improvement. (Our house was built in 1913 by a man who married and raised a family there, and died living there in the mid-1970s, so it makes sense that the house had some upgrades during his 50+ year stay.) The office floor itself is a beautiful rich red color, with the tight vertical grain characteristic of fir.
I'm wondering if we can repair and refinish that floor, as a nice historical touch (that will cost 10 times more than putting a new floor in).
Not long after we got back home, we got a real treat: our first playdate! Betsy ever-so-kindly brought by our weekly fruit subscription, along with her trio, which meant an instant playmate for each kid. Gabriel and Gina wasted no time running through the house hollering their heads off as usual. But once Gina caught sight of the mound of moving boxes out back, a construction project was underway.
I wish I caught a photo, but even Dylan and Katrina had a few moments of interacting together.
I still haven't met my goal of getting one room in this house under control, but there's still tomorrow!
6/14/08
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