Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Back home...

Ahh, the feeling of being in one's own house after an absence. There's really nothing like it. You know the feeling... you've been having a great time away, but when you walk back in your own door, your whole body relaxes. I usually have the "it's good to be home" buzz for a few hours after I get back from a trip. I unpack and put things away, check the mail, listen to the answering machine, and then sit down with a cuppa hot something or other. Sometimes I light a candle. David isn't home just yet (tomorrow night!), so it's just me and the sleeping munchkin. He seemed relieved to be back in his bed.

I was thinking about the things that I've heard about this neighborhood since we moved here. Nobody suggests that we buy a house here. The kindest thing I've heard said is that it's a "transitional neighborhood." I've heard that a real estate agent didn't recommend living here alone as a single female. The worst thing I've heard said is that this place is full of drug dealers. But you know, I really don't give a dang about what they say. What I see here is a bunch of different people of different ages, backgrounds, and races, who live together in quiet community. On my street, most people own their homes and have lived here for several years. Across the street, there is a single gal working her way through nursing school as a bartender. On the corner is an older black lady who keeps her yard immaculately and always gives us a smile as we pass. We have a single black guy who lent us a ladder, a grad student from Duke, a couple with a new baby, a single mom with a teenage daughter, a Baptist couple who have raised four boys and are now retired, and a wonderful Lebanese family with two teenage girls who love Seth.

I know my neighbors, and they are great people. Maybe some would say this isn't a "desirable" neighborhood to live in, but the longer I live in it, the more I see people and not small, older homes and unmowed lawns. When I got home tonight, the Lebanese family next door stopped to talk as they were coming home and taking in their trash can. They were wondering when we were coming home, and they said to leave a phone number so they could call if the house needed anything while we were away. They are fantastic neighbors who always watch the cat for us while we're gone. They help us rake leaves, and they water our plants. I wish we could do more for them, but they don't leave enough! =) Frank owns his own computer business with a brother, and his wife is an accountant. Their girls are so sweet, and I enjoy seeing them coming in and out from their teenage doings. Because of them, I always feel safe here, even when I'm home alone. I know that they are there and ready to help if I ever need anything. What a wonderful feeling! Each light that I see on in our little street is warm with the friendly faces I know are behind it. Getting to know your neighbors can be such a blessing...

1 comment:

Meredith said...

I know the feeling.

Until this last move to be closer to my husband's work, we have always lived in "transitional" neighborhoods.

Our first home truly was four houses away from a drug dealer, but the rest of the street was diverse and friendly.