Back on Track
I have been a bad, bad blogger lately. I would blame the move and subsequent settling in except that we essentially reached a level of functionality soon after getting here and have not progressed much since. Mainly I think I've just gotten out of the groove of blogging. But that doesn't mean I don't have things to say.
First, I must tell you that our new neighborhood rocks even harder than I thought it would. My quality of life has already improved about ten thousand percent. (Yes, ten thousand. It's on the internet, so it must be true.)
In our old neighborhood we had sidewalks but taking walks was not very appealing. Here I put Henry in the stroller and we walk for miles and miles. Everyone is so friendly; the houses are so gorgeous (old half-million dollar mansions abound, though not on our block!); and there are things worth walking to: the library, the lakefront, the grocery store, the coffee shop.
Ah, the coffee shop. I've been spending a lot of time (and too much money) there lately. Since Henry has become resistant to napping in bed I've started letting him nap in the stroller, and he's usually asleep by the time I reach Starbucks. I throw a blanket over him and sink into an armchair with a mocha and a book. It's completely, utterly decadent.
And then there are the neighbors. We've met about half the people on our block, both sides of the street, and have learned the names of many more. And it's only been a month. In winter.
Also, we had people bring us pound cake and brownies to welcome us to the neighborhood. (Yes, this apparently actually happens outside of movies.)
And now a titch of defensiveness about our new community: When we told people we were moving here, a common (and unoriginal) response was a wordplay on the name of the village indicating that only white people live there.
I ranted about this to a friend who also lives here and she pointed out that there is actually a fair amount of diversity -- Asians, Russians and Poles, for starters. There is also a large Jewish population, and although I can't say this with authority, I'm betting a fair amount of gay people.
This week at the library I saw a man and his (apparent) granddaughter speaking Russian and a mother and daughter who looked Indian, speaking with accents. I also heard a family at the park speaking Spanish and two women with British accents at Starbucks. And we learned that one of our new neighbors is an older German woman.
So, okay, maybe there isn't a big African-American population. But does diversity have to mean black people? Is our new community not diverse just because none of the people I just mentioned are African-American?
Maybe I'm rationalizing. All I know is that I love where we live. It's interesting. It's neighborly. And best of all, it's home.
First, I must tell you that our new neighborhood rocks even harder than I thought it would. My quality of life has already improved about ten thousand percent. (Yes, ten thousand. It's on the internet, so it must be true.)
In our old neighborhood we had sidewalks but taking walks was not very appealing. Here I put Henry in the stroller and we walk for miles and miles. Everyone is so friendly; the houses are so gorgeous (old half-million dollar mansions abound, though not on our block!); and there are things worth walking to: the library, the lakefront, the grocery store, the coffee shop.
Ah, the coffee shop. I've been spending a lot of time (and too much money) there lately. Since Henry has become resistant to napping in bed I've started letting him nap in the stroller, and he's usually asleep by the time I reach Starbucks. I throw a blanket over him and sink into an armchair with a mocha and a book. It's completely, utterly decadent.
And then there are the neighbors. We've met about half the people on our block, both sides of the street, and have learned the names of many more. And it's only been a month. In winter.
Also, we had people bring us pound cake and brownies to welcome us to the neighborhood. (Yes, this apparently actually happens outside of movies.)
And now a titch of defensiveness about our new community: When we told people we were moving here, a common (and unoriginal) response was a wordplay on the name of the village indicating that only white people live there.
I ranted about this to a friend who also lives here and she pointed out that there is actually a fair amount of diversity -- Asians, Russians and Poles, for starters. There is also a large Jewish population, and although I can't say this with authority, I'm betting a fair amount of gay people.
This week at the library I saw a man and his (apparent) granddaughter speaking Russian and a mother and daughter who looked Indian, speaking with accents. I also heard a family at the park speaking Spanish and two women with British accents at Starbucks. And we learned that one of our new neighbors is an older German woman.
So, okay, maybe there isn't a big African-American population. But does diversity have to mean black people? Is our new community not diverse just because none of the people I just mentioned are African-American?
Maybe I'm rationalizing. All I know is that I love where we live. It's interesting. It's neighborly. And best of all, it's home.
2 Comments:
Well, if you've been a bad blogger, I've been a bad, bad blog reader. So much to do, so little time! Anyway, I am sooooo thrilled to hear that your new house is everything you dreamed it would be and more. Kudos to you for taking the situation by the horns and shaping your life the way you want it to be.
By Anonymous, at 8:12 AM
Well, I would say that there are more races than black and white. So, let it roll; you are living in a diverse area, even if skin colors are not quite so very starkly contrasted. Chalk it up to ignorance.
And- I took cookies to every one of my neighbors as they moved in on the day they were doing the heavy lifting. :)
By Jenny, at 1:59 PM
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