Our Norman Rockwell-ian neighborhood is very charming. We live in lovely, (mostly) restored vintage bungalows, American four-squares, mock Tudors and Colonials, built mostly between the 1910s and 1940s. Almost all are shaded by stately, long-lived maples, oaks, ash, pine and spruce trees that line our streets and well-used sidewalks in abundance.
When plotting out our neighborhood back in the day, some wonderfully twisted genius obviously went to great lengths to assure there was no apparent uniformity among our lots. Some of us have post-stamp front yards, but deep, private, luxurious back yards – others, the exact opposite. You’ll find double lots, narrow lots, pie-shaped lots.
Which brings me to the point of this post. And yes, there IS a point. Here it is. Finally.
So, here’s what struck me about the neighborhood this morning. Aside from how stinkin’ long it’s taking to finish building the new garage on Wall Street and to complete the front-yard re-do on Monroe, that is.