The houses in my neighborhood were built in the late 1950s and early 1960s. You see a lot of ranch homes here, with a few split levels or two story homes. We live very near a large Catholic church with a school that goes from pre-school to 8th grade, I think.
The other morning, I was getting my first cup of coffee and glanced out the kitchen window. I could see the lights on in a home behind us—a co-worker, who is also a neighbor, had told me that the husband in that home had died about six months ago, and that the wife could no longer care for the home as she’s now in her 80s. We’d seen some people from a lawn service blowing out leaves last week, and as I saw into the house that morning, it was clear more renovation work was going on.
So our neighborhood is changing. In some cases, these are the original owners of the homes who are dying or moving into assisted living. Some of the houses are being bought by developers, who tear down perfectly good homes and build big custom made houses. To be honest, those big houses look kind of silly since the lots here aren't so large.
In our own house (which we affectionately have named Little Yellow House), the previous owner inherited the house from her parents and they had been just the second owners. Next door, there’s a family with elementary-school aged kids. Across the street, the family’s children are even younger. Next to them, there’s a couple that moved in, then got married and I think the baby I’ve been seeing recently is theirs.
I think the average age still skews toward middle age but that’s changing. I see more kids on bikes when I drive home, or out on scooters or on walks with their parents. It’s good to see, even if it makes driving on my street more of a challenge—by design, our neighborhood has no sidewalks. Apparently it’s supposed to make everything look more like country roads.
The other morning, I was getting my first cup of coffee and glanced out the kitchen window. I could see the lights on in a home behind us—a co-worker, who is also a neighbor, had told me that the husband in that home had died about six months ago, and that the wife could no longer care for the home as she’s now in her 80s. We’d seen some people from a lawn service blowing out leaves last week, and as I saw into the house that morning, it was clear more renovation work was going on.
So our neighborhood is changing. In some cases, these are the original owners of the homes who are dying or moving into assisted living. Some of the houses are being bought by developers, who tear down perfectly good homes and build big custom made houses. To be honest, those big houses look kind of silly since the lots here aren't so large.
I think the average age still skews toward middle age but that’s changing. I see more kids on bikes when I drive home, or out on scooters or on walks with their parents. It’s good to see, even if it makes driving on my street more of a challenge—by design, our neighborhood has no sidewalks. Apparently it’s supposed to make everything look more like country roads.
1 comment:
I will occasionally visit the neighborhood I grew up in. It is nostalogic. I remember playing with all the kids on our street and we had the best adventures, the greatest friendships and mostly we had community. I miss that. My kids didn't get to grow up in a neighborhood like that, and I often believe I did a grave disservice to them for not finding a different place to live. Sidewalks are important btw, especially for young kids who like to use the unevenness to learn how to pop a wheelie. Lol.
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